The Legs

Making dinner, as such consumes my life, was tormented and harshly interrupted by the most horrid and undeniably scary thing that could have found itself happening at that moment. I reached in far and deep. It was right at the back because someone had placed it there. Not naming names, I pulled it out gently and with quite a bit of ease I might add. But I was fooled. Walking across I had my fingers in it. I delved into its curvaceous walls towering high above it. My fingers rubbing, dragging across the surface. I placed it beside me, but I did not let it go. Everything ready; everything perfect, I entrusted my vision to allow it to occur. Tongs digging. Tongs pulling. Tongs sweeping through the untamed air to place a special gift within the depths of the bowl. Screeching to a halt I paused. Frozen in the midst of it I couldn't hardly understand the incoherent disbelief. There, in the bowl was a Daddy Long Legs. Hideously it crawled, trying so desperately to climb and escape. But the walls were so high, even those legs could not reach. Still there, screaming through my unopened mouth, I saw the food hanging. It hanged there prepared for the placing, but the spider was in sheer frantic horror. Was it about to be crushed and eaten? I think not. No, I finally overcame the shock, the dirty filthiness of the situation and placed the food back in the pan. But I could see it moving. It moved so close I screamed louder through my cheeks. My teeth began to tremble with the high-pitched force. The spider was moving towards my fingers; of which were still holding that retched bowl. There, in more than deep enough, the spider found sanctuary; freedom from the strange, white depression it did not realise existed atop the mountain of ribbed edges where they slide perfectly together. Swiftly I moved my arm. I threw my arm in the away direction, for I could not bare its devilled flesh touching, groping, violating my skin, or I surely would cross the line into complete insanity. I giggled, I wiggled and I threw my fingers in the sink. Scubbing them clean, I remenisced and interpreted the mistake. So I’ve learnt my lesson. Putting my fingers deep into the gaping holes, delving in to the dark places with no protection; well it surely will not happen again.