The Itsy Bitsy Red Clay Spider Takes a Shower on the Web

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THE ITSY BITSY RED CLAY SPIDER TAKES A SHOWER ON THE WEB

I groggily open the shower door as part of my zombie-esque morning routine, prepared to permit the Hot Water Spray Gods to blast me awake and drive my adrenalin rush. It’s the only way I can truly come alive each day.

But today is special. Even without my glasses, I can see that there is something different about the shower stall.

Just above eye level, right over the nickel plated controls, there rests a large, red-clay-hued wiggling spider.

Thus, I am frozen in the metal pedestrian-sign pose of a man who has just heard an alarm go off.

Suddenly, all the moral and philosophical arguments of the ages rush together in my mind, and I am conflicted for a moment.

Is this a poisonous spider? I have no idea. If not poisonous, does this spider bite anyhow? Even if it is not poisonous or bitey, do I want to trust it not to leap upon my face while showering?

I have trouble killing anything at all, much less minuscule critters who are more pesky than dangerous. But I do know that if I don’t do something about this spider, Liz will be hysterical should it introduce itself later. I have to be The Man.

Where are my weapons? Uh, I don’t own any because I never have the desire to weaponize anybody or anything. But basic instinct prevails. Hoping the spider won’t leap upon my naked body as I draw near, I grab a box of Kleenex and solidly WHOMP the intruder.

The tale is over. The spider is now in that big web site in the Cloud along with all the other spiders we humongous humans have dispatched over the centuries.

The murder is swift—but painless? The only way to know is to interview the spider, who is no longer in any condition to reply. Did I  just set my Karma back a thousand years? Will all the insects I’ve encountered be waiting for me when I take my place beside them Up There?

I resolve to accept the fact that I am a serial killer. Won’t do me any good to continue the inner dialogue right now—there will be plenty of time to face things after something WHOMPS me down the road.

For now, I will merely take my shower, ask the spider for forgiveness, and go about the day with a touch more humility than is customary.

Now to get to work and face the REALLY dangerous realities, the ones you can’t solve with just one red clay WHOMP

© Jim Reed 2014 A.D.

jim@jimreedbooks.com

http://www.jimreedbooks.com

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