Arachnophobia Part II

...continued from previous post...


He's staring me down like he's got something to prove. As if I'm not much more than a prize to be won. Do I submit? Do I fret? I'm driving down the road. I can't do anything for fear of the repercussions. But I can't do nothing! There is nowhere to safely pull over in a jiffy so as to rid myself of this demon.

He moved like literal lightning. Just as quickly as I'd noticed him again, although it felt as if it had been days since I first discovered he had not disappeared back into the realms of the outer darkness from whence he came.

He took off straight across the dashboard towards the passenger side. I could almost hear his little gingerbread-man-like voice, “Catch me if you can!” Ok, spidey. You and me now. You and me. Keep moving. That's right, keep moving. Head towards. . .over there. . .away from me.

It's as if he heard my thoughts. He paused. Like he was pondering his next move. Daring to defy my mind appeals for safety. He turned. At a 90 degree angle. BACK towards ME!

I mentally apologized sincerely for my discourteousness to him. The lady doth protest he should come any closer for fear that my life would flash before my eyes and I would realize I hadn't done anything interesting with it.

He stopped. Our eyes met and I felt immediately outnumbered. It was like two creatures who had never met before yet knew they were meant to be mortal enemies from conception. Only until one would eventually destroy the other. The whole neither can live while both survive kind of nonsense.

I was switching between our deathly, uncertain glares and keeping my eyes on the stretch of road ahead of me. A stretch that seemed both impossibly long and quite possibly shorter that I desired. He chose just the moment when my eyes and attention were focused on my path to begin his descent down the dashboard. This dude has a serious hidden agenda. He's so quietly and spiderly making his way closer, trying to find a way back to somewhere familiar and then makes a headway straight for my legs.

It doesn't make sense. Or it makes too much sense. I can see the gleam of hatred in his eye. Revenge. Revenge for my earlier failed murderous attempt. He's doing this on purpose. And loving every minute of it.  How many of his friends have I mercilessly flushed over the years?  Oh, the arachnidanity!!!

I might have peed my pants. Here I am, with only a year's worth of driving experience under the seat of my pants and I'm having to balance my “avoid traffic and other such road mishaps” and my “I refuse to lose sight of this hell-fiend” mentalities.  So he makes his way to the end of the dashboard right above the steering wheel. Mental check. Steering wheel is black. Second mental check. Critter is also black.  And I think he's stopped moving.  This guy is wearing an urban ghillie suit.

I've lost him............................ *dread*

To be continued. . .