Love and tentacles

No one conveys the touching humanity, and inhumanity, of tentacle monsters like John Wisell. I loved an earlier tale in which an invading alien's attempts to communicate through its primary sense of taste go spectacularly wrong for the humans it encounters. In Where I'm From, We Eat Our Parents, a tentacle monster endures a human rite of passage as he accompanies his new human girlfriend home for dinner with her parents.