Chapter 55: The White Flower with Five Petals
It might seem obvious, but my apartment is located not far from the Thames River.
On quiet nights, I could even hear the water flowing. It might actually be sewage I’m hearing, but that thought is so unpleasant that I’ve simply decided to believe it’s the river.
However, nights quiet enough to hear such sounds were rare.
The river, no matter how hideously transformed, still harbored life within it. Thus, all of London’s vermin claimed the Thames as their great mother. Her revolting offspring tormented us day and night with their unpleasant noises and putrid stench.
So, peaceful nights of falling asleep to the gentle sound of flowing water were impossible. Living near the Thames meant waging a constant battle against pests.
Allow me to introduce one of them.
Every night, they crawled out from the fetid sewage of the Thames and clustered on every lit window in sticky, writhing masses. Thames water dripped from their bodies, leaving slick traces wherever they touched, and the gastric juices they periodically regurgitated speckled the glass with foul residue.
One couldn’t dare leave windows open for fear of when these revolting hellspawn might invade. Whenever I happened to glance toward the window, I’d be greeted by their wrinkled compound eyes and twitching proboscises pressed grotesquely against the glass.
Far from enjoying the view, I considered myself lucky not to contract some disease. The most terrifying aspect was that one would inevitably encounter these creatures not just near the Thames, but anywhere in London.