An Unexpected Fright

by Madison Miller

It’s the dead of night, the room is dark, the closet door is thrust in shadow,
and feeling jumpy and on edge, “what if there’s a monster?” I ask my roommate,
whose bed is across from my own.

“It’s late and I’m not checking,” they say, voice tired and rough.
“Go to sleep.” They roll over in their bed, away from me,
facing the wall instead.

“Boo,” I shout, as I get up and pull open the door --

only to find that there’s a furry monster inside,
who clearly wasn’t expecting a fright,
eyes wet and gleaming, and striped fur standing up on edge.

“Ah,” the monster screams, the sound echoed by my own cry,

which falls in a hurry as I slam the closet door, run back to bed,
and resolve to leave the poor monster alone.