Despite the blackout blind, the early morning sun has sneakily found its way in, but it’s too early and I’m in no hurry to start my day. Turning away from the harshness of the sunlight, I bury my face into the softness of my pillow and then I remember the ordeal of the night before, the terror, and subsequent uneasy night’s sleep.
The normally welcoming pillow is no longer my refuge from the morning light and the memory of the night before causes me to recoil in fear and foreboding. Moments later, away from the bed, with carpet slippers firmly on my feet, I begin to scan the room, but there’s nothing untoward and nothing to be seen.
Flashback to Tuesday Night
With a yawn, I finished my customary late night activity (browsing Facebook and Houzz), switched off the iPad, lay down and reached over to switch off the bedside light. Out of the corner of my eye, I became aware of something above my head, I turned to gaze directly at it. When the enormity of what I was looking at sunk in, I almost fell over myself in my haste to leave the bed. For a brief moment I was frozen with fright, staring at the offending sight.
The spider, clinging to the ceiling, was waiting for darkness and the moment it could shimmy silently down the wall and crawl stealthily onto my face, at least that’s what my imagination told me.
Conflicting thoughts raced about my head until I finally came to a conclusion of what must be done. Grabbing the spider catcher, which is never far from reach, I stood precariously on the bed, stretching upwards, I pointed the catcher toward the ceiling where I made a brave attempt to capture the spider within the bristles. Unfortunately, instead of the planned humane removal, I inadvertently swept it downwards and onto the bed, where it lay stunned and very still.
Now, at this point, a sensible person would have swiftly removed the spider with whatever was to hand, but I’m not sensible, I had to have a second attempt with the catcher, but how was I to know the catcher’s bristles weren’t very efficient on soft material, or for that matter that the spider was only playing dead?
The spider ran off at speed towards the head of the bed and appeared to disappear beneath a pillow. I began to cry, screaming hysterically “no no noooo.” This time I grabbed a tissue, and although I couldn’t be certain where the spider had gone, I was determined it wouldn’t evade capture a third time. Lifting the pillows one by one, each pillow case was carefully removed, and the same with the duvet. Everything was hauled off the bed, examined and shaken before being re-made. I looked underneath the bed and dragged out the bedside tables, but despite my best search efforts I couldn’t find anything.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a very long time, too frightened to climb in, eventually, of course, I had to, but sleep didn’t come easily as the same questions re-surfaced again and again in my head.
‘Where had the spider come from, but more importantly, where did it go?’
Footnote: Grateful thanks to Daisy for her spider drawings.