The Spider

It watches me. With all of its eight eyes, I know. I’m sure. It knows I...fear it: it’s spindly, black legs, it’s bulbous abdomen, and it’s intense stare. I’m frozen with fear where I sit: On the sofa watching television, watching...it, as it watches me watching television and...it.

Maybe it bites? Maybe it has fangs dripping in poison waiting...waiting to unload its venom into my veins, maybe? But as ridiculous as I know my fear is, it doesn’t change the fact that this arachnid, as big as my thumbnail is, terrifies me, and is my worst nightmare manifest into reality.