Note: There is some swearing and nasty talk in this post.<\/p>\n
Prompt: Spiders<\/p>\n
When I was a kid, one night there was a spider on the ceiling above my bed when I went to sleep. When I woke up it was gone. I have thought, since that day, against all logic, that the spider dropped on me while I was sleeping and infiltrated one of my facial cavities.<\/p>\n
Note: It is possible that this didn’t actually happen.<\/p>\n
I am not a spider person. Slow moving bugs I can handle. Wasps make me nervous but I will chase the stunned ones, fat with heat, out of my house. But spiders! Those two extra legs make them move three times as fast as the six-legged insects. A blatant flagrancy for the rules of nature like that makes me nervous. <\/p>\n
– Tiny, non-threatening spiders are still threatening because where is their mother?
\n– Big, hairy spiders are terrifying. Just look at those words: “Big. Hairy.” Awful!
\n– Medium sized, long legged spiders are my favourite, of the breed. You can trap them more easily because of their long legs.
\n– Small, short-legged, fat bodied spiders are the worst. They’re fast, they might be biters, they could scoot up your pant leg without you noticing. <\/p>\n
It’s not the spiders themselves I mind. It’s the not-knowing where the spiders are. Wondering if they’re lurking. Imagining they’re waiting until I turn out the light to curl up on my pillow with me and share my breath. No, I don’t actually spend any time lying in bed thinking about spiders. But when I think about spiders I do think about them sneaking around, letting themselves in and making themselves at home.<\/p>\n
The other night I walked over to the grocery store to buy milk. It was 7:30 and we had just put the kids to bed. I walked quickly in the cold, clear evening, enjoying the silence and solitude. The young adults who live up the block were out jump-starting their car, like every day this week. People were walking their little dogs. I crossed the street and approached the Safeway just as a young guy on a bike was leaving. He had a puffy coat with a fur-trimmed hood. I moved to the right to let him by and as he passed me he said,<\/p>\n
“I’d fuck your ass.”<\/p>\n
I kept walking. He kept riding in the opposite direction. At first I snickered. Because he was not even 20 years old. As if. AS IF.<\/p>\n
I didn’t snicker for long. Shortly after, I felt all those things you feel when someone treats you like a piece of meat. Angry. Afraid. Indignant. Angry. Mostly angry. <\/p>\n
When I was a teenager, that would have been a compliment. I am fuckable! What a wonderful thing, at last, the affirmation I have been seeking. And some random person thinks so! It’s not even some dude who’s obliged to say it – it’s a stranger! <\/p>\n
Nevermind why that stranger gets to consider my fuckability at all. Nevermind why that stranger feels it is OK to comment to another stranger on her fuckability, or lack thereof. <\/p>\n
And now that I am experienced enough to consider those questions, nevermind why I can only swallow those questions and keep walking, because it is not safe to engage with a stranger on a dark street no matter how young he is, because if he thinks I am that fuckable – or even if he is being sarcastic about it – he might just try it.<\/p>\n
One minute I am out for a walk, minding my business, enjoying the air around me and then, suddenly, I am not. Then I am wondering<\/p>\n
– is he gone
\n– is he violent
\n– is he waiting in the park
\n– does he have friends
\n– would a 4L jug of milk to the testicles convince him that he could not, in fact, fuck me. Or my ass. <\/p>\n
With one short sentence, that guy reduced me to an orifice, whether he is aware of it or not. <\/p>\n
You just never know where the spiders are.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Note: There is some swearing and nasty talk in this post. Prompt: Spiders When I was a kid, one night there was a spider on the ceiling above my bed when I went to sleep. When I woke up it … Continue reading