At Dinner's Close

"This isn't ham, is it?" Richard asked. He stared at the thing on his plate, which stunk.

"No," Doreen replied. She watched something drip from the thing's side. "I thought it was. But I guess it's not."

The thing began to quiver and bubble and move slowly off the plate, trailing breadcrumbs and chives as it made its way toward some unfathomable destination.