The creature never introduced itself.

It walked through the front door one evening, sat down in the lounge room and started laying out its things. We were all too polite to ask its name, or where it was from, or why, indeed, it had visited us. So, we just... never spoke about it.

Forget elephant in the room. The creature was only small, about the size of my palm, and shadowy in figure like an animal adept at hiding in the jungle.

Instead, it was the clammy air swept in with it that filled the room. A fog of equal parts hot and cold. Blanched, we became lost in our own home.

We started to hold our arms out in front of us so we could feel our way around, avoid knocking too many things over, making too much sound. We ended up just pushing each other around. We jerked apologies out then retracted them quickly before the next tumble

When the fog did finally lift, we found our guest had left just as unexpectedly as it had arrived. We all wondered when and where the creature had gone, but, not remembering its name we were all a little too embarrassed to start the conversation – and all a little too afraid of what the others would say if it had never really happened.