It began with a tragedy. I truly thought I’d not survive it but I did. Have you ever found a spider in your morning coffee? Or, more precisely, the last spoon of coffee that you scratched from the tin. That’s what happened to me.
First, there’s the awful realisation that it’s not coffee heaped up on your spoon. No, it’s a very angry huntsman. Normally they’re pretty chill but when they’ve been hacked at with a blunt metal implement over and over… well, they’re no longer willing to let bygones be bygones.
Second is the even more awful realisation that there’s no more coffee left. Perhaps I wouldn’t mind so much if the huntsman had escaped when I cracked open the lid. But now, with what little remains of the coffee thoroughly mixed with spider parts and limbs… well, I’m really not prepared to use it, and not even if it was the last spoon of coffee in the world.
So, anyway, the spider skittered out onto my hand with its last remaining legs and hissed at me. I swear, that’s what it did! Are huntsman spiders even capable of this? I don’t know, but if pain could give it wings then I would have much preferred this. Poor little guy! Still, I was pretty pissed off too. So, I thought a little bit and hissed back. The spider stared at me with its last remaining eye, and I could’ve sworn there was something akin to surprise in its look.
I was about to say something when it held out its front fang for me to shake. I didn’t quite know what else to do, so I held out my other hand and extended my forefinger. We shook, and with that the spider hopped off and limped away.
And then I got dressed and went to the coffee shop.
unbolt me 