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Spiders in the Dark

MEMOIR PROJECT ROUGH DRAFT

Jars of tarantula stayed scattered around the house all the following next day and Herbie stayed tacked to the wall on his fishing line leash until he weirded me out and I had S— put Herbie back in his jar. I went to bed with two tarantula jars on the dresser across from my bed. Moonlight cast indistinct shadows on the floor and a blotted illumination on the ceiling. On the cusp of the umbra and penumbra, I saw thick, hairy, tarantula legs moving deliberate and slow in a stalking manner. I shook my head. I told myself the tarantulas could not escape their jars—and I knew they could not escape their jars—but I could not shake the hallucinations or the power of their lies. As I saw more and more tarantulas out of the corners of my eyes, I panicked, pulled back the covers, jumped across the room, and turned on the light: two tarantulas sat in jars on my dresser, the rest scurried back into the shadows of my childhood imagination.

END
© 2006 Christian Cloud Abraham

Posted on September 10, 2006 in
Emotion: Fear, Type: Creative Nonfiction