These aren't the stories your mother told you.

No, these are the other stories.

Fould, written by Matthew Stott, narrated by Ian McEwan.

Abigail first saw the strange creature hiding behind the wheelie bins.

It was small and spindly with grey, damp flesh flesh and looked like something that might come darting out of a dank basement corner if you were to poke a stick into it.

He failed, said Dad, laying down his cards with a sigh.

You saw what, honey?

Asked Mum, her eyes not leaving her own cards.

I don't know, replied Abigail.

Not exactly.

It was sort of odd and disgusting.

When it saw I'd noticed it, the thing ducked out of sight.

Probably a stray cat, or a rat, said Dad.

Rats often hide behind bins, known for it, famous even.

No, it didn't look like a rat to me. It looked like...

Well, it didn't look like anything I've ever seen.

Did you put the recycling into the bin? asked Mum.

Yes.

Good girl.

That night, as she lay in the dark and the wind threw rain against her bedroom window

as though it were trying to shatter the glass,

Abigail felt small, wet fingers begin to trace the lines of her face.

...