I just inserted the first teeth into the mouth of the Morsicant.
I also bought a bed-tent, and put it up. Here it is.
I wonder how it is that when we are small we get to have things like bed tents to hide out in, but when we grow up we're supposed to stop that sort of thing. Why? Because you're supposed to want a house really badly? And we might all end up happily living in a box each in one big house and collapse the economy? (Hey...hang on...) - I get unhappy if I can't sometimes sit under a table or in a cupboard. It helps me think. If a lot is going on in the world I sometimes don't notice that I am thinking the same thing over and over. It is very easy, for example, to see the world passing by through a train window and count up everything I don't like about somebody I haven't seen in years over and over again. But when nothing is going on at all, for example because I am inside a cupboard at the time,that sort of thing becomes excruciatingly and obviously boring.
If you get stuck writing a story at your table, I do recommend relocating to underneath it for a bit.
But I don't insist.