Phillip T. Stephens

Living metaphor.

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I spent my childhood under my bed because monsters were kinder than my teachers. And classmates. And cousins. Mother said monsters are imaginary. Then she cleaned underneath my bed. The monsters followed me to seven different foster homes and may have contributed to my frequent reassignment. I taught community college writing for twenty-five years. My monsters stayed under my bed until I retired. Now they crowd my car and eat my food at drive-throughs (not to mention the occasional cashier's finger). We live with my wife Carol in Oak Hill, Texas, and rescue cats for http:/ Siamese, it seems, get along well with monsters.

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