When we finally learned it was just a slime mold, harmless and weirdly common in damp places, the fear didn’t disappear instantly. Relief mixed with this lingering unease, like the world had quietly admitted it still had secrets hiding in plain sight. We cleaned it up, aired out the bathroom, laughed it off in that shaky way you do after a scare. But now, every time I step onto those tiles, I glance down — just to be sure nothing strange is quietly growing its way back.
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