Dr. NoSleep

But out of the corner of his eye, squatting down in the tall grass median, he saw it.

One of them.

As unmistakable as the day was clear, that lumpy, misshapen thing stuffed into a filthy blue jumpsuit that only just covered its festering, nub-like body

Its skin was translucent and rippling like bath foam, and it shifted wildly as if it couldn't stay still, or the matter that had made up its body couldn't keep a cohesive form.

Its head was oversized like a football, and in the sunshine, he could see the enormous black frog eyes glistening with alien intellect.

He wasn't sure what terrified him more, that one of them sat there in broad daylight and the people, those mouth-breathing dull cattle, walked by gawking and yelling in ignorance, or that it was here, looking right up at his room, at him, like a starving predator.

For a moment, he considered screaming out the window to alert the people that one of them was here, right among them.

But he knew better.

The moment he'd say anything, they would probably take off again, transform as they were known to do, and scurry off on 100 tiny insect legs or fly with fleshy bat wings.

Or they'd play him for a fool again, like at the restaurant in Tanner Sport when he had seen one, worm-like and waving its crustacean hands to collect alley mice to eat.

They'd want him to call them out, to give them attention.

They didn't fear being noticed, for they were already everywhere, like germs or parasites, now a norm.

Beep, beep, beep.

The phone rang again.

Its shrill melody blared through the room.

He scrambled backward away from the window in the black, watchful stare of it down below, and he ripped the receiver from its cradle.

It was a man's voice this time.

No emotion or inflection, same as the woman before him.

The only other difference he could hear was that the tone was clearer, the background of oppressive mechanical sound having faded into booming silence.

Did you check the toilet?