Daniel Cabrisi lived in his parents house in Bagot Street, Mile End, but not with his parents. They had died in their bedroom together, after ingesting a large quantity of poison with their nightly cocoa. Daniel had used a clumsy magic to capture the spirits of Martha and Jonathon, but had not managed to contain them within the mystic glass ball he had purchased for the task, instead they had ended up inside the hive mind of a silverfish colony, now living within a bubble wrap envelope nailed to the wall in the kitchen. Sometimes he would press his ear to the envelope and was able to hear his parents arguing, as though in another room in the house, and he found it comforting, for although he was their murderer, he was still their only child, and in his way, he loved them. Once a week he opened the envelope and dropped in foodstuffs suitable for silverfish, usually collars of expensive shirts his father had owned, labels attached, so that he could hear him sigh ‘not the Van Heusen’, or documents important to his mother so that she could be heard to wail ‘my wedding vows’, and then, as her ‘many silverfish’ self, have to eat them. On the day that he fed the colony his own baby photos, there was a huge uproar from his parents, who, not realising that he had killed them, still loved him dearly. They were heard to cry ‘not the baby photos’ and then silverfish poured out through the opening in the top, right over Daniel’s hand. By the time he had closed it again, and stopped shuddering at the feel of the hundreds of skittery legs on his skin there were only a few left. When he pressed his ear against the envelope there were only wailing noises like ‘uuaou’ and a staccato ‘o-o-o-o’. It was then that he realised that the silverfish capable of uttering consonants had all left, and only the vowel capable silverfish were left in the envelope. Frustrated, he pulled out the nail, and took the remainders of the colony into the lounge room and released them onto the expensive carpet. And that is where Martha and Jonathon Cabrisi lived out their scattered silverfish lives, slowly eating the carpet that had taken them five years to pay off.