There is a creature in our sink. It is the kind that used to live in wells, but we don’t have those here. Instead it lives in the little can attached to the plumbing, where the garbage disposal should be. It eats onion skins and rotten grapes, and once threw up the shredded remains of all the fibrous artichoke leaves I had stuffed down the drain.

I am afraid to put my hand down the drain. The creature is not supposed to eat fingers, but once while groping for a lost spoon, I caressed its slick teeth and knew that must be waiting for fresh flesh.

I no longer drop utensils accidentally down the sink.