As a slime, Gina doesn’t have much experience around humans. They fascinate her. The way they read and write, the way they handle objects with such precision — so many dry things they touch without a second thought.

One morning, Gina decides on an experiment. She’s been told she should wear “clothes” like everyone else. Curious how her human—no, her roommate—might react, she slips into a shirt she picked out from his laundry. She reshapes her body so it hangs properly, even shrinking her chest so the fabric drapes like it should. Then she waits in silence, watching him through the narrow crack of his door, patient and still, until he stirs awake.