The surface didn’t look like plastic.
It had a strange, moist texture.
And then I saw it.
A slight movement.
It was subtle—so subtle that I almost convinced myself I had imagined it.
But then it moved again.
My stomach dropped.
It wasn’t a piece of trash.
It wasn’t rubber.
It wasn’t some random object that had fallen onto the floor.
It was alive.
I immediately stepped back.
For a moment, I just stood there, trying to process what I had seen.
The realization was somehow worse than the uncertainty.
Because now I had a new question:
This evening, I walked into my girlfriend’s bathroom and spotted this on the floor. I’ve been sitting here for 30 minutes, staring at it and trying to work out what it is.
