"Did you know the Octopus is twice as intelligent as the average kindergartner?"
"That's simply not true." I said.
"And its dreams are twice as long."
I watched it thrashing when the car moved. It was spilling Octopus water all across the back seat.
The next week our vcr and stereo were gone. The kitchen had been raided for food. Slices of bread were spread across the linoleum.
"Check the tank."
It was empty.
We found a large wet black egg between the couch cushions.
"Rub it everyday." She instructed.
Seven days later it began to squirm.
"This is it!" She declared.
I felt uncomfortable and a little nauseous. I set it on the coffee table. It wasn't going to get any more help from me.
Nothing came. I would drive home from work thinking about it.
Eventually, it shriveled up in to a little black raisin on top of the magazines. The color in all the magazines' photographs tinted green. The covers stuck to it. I had to throw them out too.
Taking the garbage bag out, I slipped in the falling snow. I cut my head and my hand and tore the bag. The little raisin tumbled in the snow, drawing a tiny path. I picked it up and licked the gash on my hand. The briny taste of its salt was in my blood. Before I could help it I consumed the entire thing. Feeling dizzy I sat down for a moment. A distant sound was in my ears.
She was watching tv as I entered. She looked me up and down. And surprisingly, I found myself studying her damaged grey eyes. I went in to my room and shut the door. I sat in bed and saw the thin blue line beneath the door flashing to the soundtrack of the television.
That night I dreamt of a throbbing heart pumping through a warm liquid.
The next night I had something in my grasp but could not open it. Whatever was inside I knew was delicious.
A few days later I drove to the harbor. I stood on one of the unguarded piers which stretched out on the inky black water. The city's neon signs bounced along the dark surface. I stripped down and stood there but could not jump in. Later, I thought, I'll finish it later.
The next night I was lying in bed. I had just awoken from a wonderful dream. I was lying in soft silt unable to focus on a blurry visage.
Only later when I walked across the living room and she did not turn her head did I realize that I was completely invisible. My body was changing colors to match its background. I waited until she prepared to go to bed and stood in her room. She slipped off her jeans. I looked for my reflection in her full length mirror swinging on her closet door and did not see it. A nightgown fell over her body and she crawled in to bed.
A few strands of blue light fell on to her sleeping form. I could hear her breathing.
The next day I did not go to work. I looked for awhile out the window where the sunlight leaked indoors. Trees stirred there in a troubled wind.
There was a knock at the door. It was the Octopus. To my horror I knew somehow it could see me. It broke the door open and scuttled furiously up the stairs. It veered suddenly to the right, making a beeline for the kitchen, going where I was going, to the drawer where the sharp knives were kept, which clattered on to the floor, spilling everywhere, gleaming brightly, sixteen in all, eight each.