It sits in the train cafe watching everyone waiting to order their food. No-one pays it much attention even though it looks so ugly. It is predominantly dark green, but in some areas its skin is translucent revealing the routing of the organs and blood vessels. Occasionally it lifts a flap of flesh to give some air to the skin below. It has very little hair on its head, just stray wisps that hang down in sporadic clumps catching the light. Its ear pours with a strange wax that pools in the clavicle on its broken shoulder. It has what you'd call in human terms a weak chin, the lower half of its face sloping in after its nose, which itself seems more like upturned slits on a small mound below the eyes. Its mouth looks like a hole in the middle of this rash. You'd barely know that hole was a mouth at all if it didn't pour coffee down it occasionally, which it has difficulty doing.
It's hard to tell what shape it really is because quite a lot of it unfolds around its table and chair making the furniture look a little like it is part of the creature. It always sits at the table in the corner, gesturing for more coffee every hour or so. Irene says she sees it walk in in the morning but she struggles to describe its bizarre gait. Many people simply assume it never moves.
On its chest, unbeknownst to anyone who sees it on the train and hidden by a hanging veil of what looks like the remnant of an over aggressive weight loss programme is another mouth that almost covers its entire upper torso. This second mouth has rows of teeth and a prehensile tongue three or four feet long.