A Spidery Encounter!

I’m not sure how my fellow writers feel, and it probably differs slightly depending on the genre one writes, but personally I find the writing process intensely introspective. I can spend a day or two thinking over a single passage. Should I do x or y? And what are my reasons for advocating or going against either option?

It was in such a thoughtful frame of mind that I looked to the ceiling. Often, I will ask my dearly departed grandparents for guidance in my work, and I’ll look to the ceiling before doing so. That’s just kind of my thing. But instead of a healthy helping of solace from beyond, staring back at me from atop my bedroom–with his very own Goodyear Blimp view of its geography–was the BIGGEST spider I have ever seen. And you know it’s big if I think it’s big, because my crappy eyes wouldn’t spot him otherwise.

It’s okay. He won’t hurt you. I don’t think. Besides, he’s a good distance from you and your bed right now. And he’s the hulk, in spider-terms. So he’ll easily take care of any insects that might think of homesteading here.

I tried to put my new roommate out of my mind. But the next time I looked up, he’d traversed a good amount of ceiling. He was now directly above my bed, the Usain Bolt of arachnids.

Âlright. Here’s the deal, Spider-dude. You stay up there, I’ll stay down here, and in this manner we shall coexist until such time as you decide to leave my room by whatever vent you originally entered.

I thought we had an understanding. A treaty of sorts. Until…

The next time I looked to the ceiling. No spider.

Well, that was a quick visit, I thought.

Then I glanced directly to my left. Not six inches from me, suspended by his newly made web, was the spider in question, glaring at me with bad-cop eyes.

Oh. My. GOD!!!!!!!

I did what any sane person would do in this situation, of course. I got to my feet and ran to the other side of the room.

Is he still there?

He’s the effing Hulk of spiders. Of course he’s still there. I could see him clearly from across the room.

Next (my girlfriend says I’m a girl for doing this, and I do not disagree), I ran back to my bed, picked up my pillow, and–using it both as a shield and as a weapon (you can probably picture the posture; it’s not flattering to me)–I threw the pillow at Darth Spider.

His web broke. It snapped like an improperly maintained zip-line compromised by a fat guy, and it disappeared. Unfortunately, so did its chief architect.

So here I sit, in a room in which I currently keep company with either a really mad spider, or a slowly decaying spider corpse. And as I finish this blog, I say to the army of spiders sure to descend upon me for unceremoniously ending the career of  their respected and feared spider general, I think I’ve done us both a favor.

Truce?

 

 

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