And then, it started making noise. It was faint at first. So faint in fact, we weren't even sure the sounds emanated from the table. It was a sort of on-and-off-again squeaking sound.
The hubby and I would periodically hover over the table to see where it was coming from. We would shush each other if we spoke, holding our frozen-in-place-ready-to-turn-into-a-salt-pillar-if-we-looked-back stance.
"There it is! Do you hear it?" one of us would say.
"Shhhh..." the other would reply, hand raised to pause the other.
Every day we came a little bit closer until finally we realized it was coming from three places in the table. Was it three separate sets of jaws nibbling away?
One night when I couldn't sleep, I sat in the living room. Creak. Creak periodically interrupted the quiet of the night. Creak. Creak rolled down the street the next evening.
Creak creak is now in the dump...or perhaps in someone else's home?...
