Let me tell you about the night I met my first silverfish.
I was living in my first apartment—a charming but ancient basement unit with creaky floors and questionable plumbing. One night, around 2 AM, I shuffled into the bathroom half-asleep, flipped on the light, and froze. On the white tile floor, right next to the toilet, sat a tiny, metallic creature that looked like someone had crossed a shrimp with a centipede and then dipped the whole thing in liquid silver.
It didn’t scurry. It flowed—a quick,darting movement
