Mr. Skinny Legs
(flick) Light comes on, synonymous with a vent fan.
My movements, quick. I time the morning just right to get all that I can done all by the minute. One variable, any instance of unaccounted for time, I will be late to work.
(Flap) Opens shower curtain.
"Jeeze, look at that!" A spider, a "Mr. Skinny Legs" as our favorite cartoon pig in this house refers to.
I can't help but find the humor in the fact that in one episode of the infamous, Peppa Pig, Daddy Pig, makes a claim about how he likes spiders, until he meets a large one. Then he goes to get Mommy Pig.
If those were the rules, then I should go upstairs now, wake my wife from her slumber, and let her deal with this thing.
He is a large spider, probably one of those, "wolf" spiders, which are any other spiders I see here in Nebraska besides Daddy Long Legs. Names of spiders are not a specialty, however if they are poisonous or not is. I do know there are spiders that are poisonous with potential to harm and those should be feared, but, from my limited and non-researched understanding, those are rare, at least here.
So, the spider falls from the shower curtain, hitting the ground, making a disturbing sound. A combination of butt and tiny, lighter legs, almost a crinkle after a slight thud. The spider scurries away, he wants no trouble. However, his last friend I carried up and outside, a smaller version of this one, in fact, I can't help but make up a story that this could be him.
Nonetheless, I have to get ready.
(Wshhhh) the shower turns on. The spider is no where to be seen.
Poor thing, went down the drain, just like that.
I have never been good at physics or measuring things, but the size of that spider and the size of the drain holes do not seem to fit.
I am naked now. I am naked and in a hurry.
Into the shower, the soap in my hair, a feeling that someone or something is watching me. A familiar feeling in a place such as the shower, naked, alone, distracted by the warm water, the soapy cleansing. One eye lid opens as water rushed all soap from its way.
"Ahhhh!" Only do that sound with a masculine voice, uh hem, it was more like..."Oh!"
No, I was scared. I was frightened in my vulnerable state. And in my fight to survive, I shifted my body, the tricking water shifted as well. Mr. Skinny legs was hit was a sprinkling of water. Thus his large body shriveled into a ball, his defense I assume.
Tick tick tick I am aware of the time.
(Sqqquuuuirt) An industrial-sized liter of shampoo squeezes onto my furry, 8-legged shower companion.
He is immersed in soap now, inevitably dead. As I take the shampoo bottle, and switch the mass of soap and spidery corpse into the drain to wash away my murder, which I defend as self-defense, the mass is intact too large to go down the drain.
(smash smash smash. Bang bang bang. Scraaaape!)
Now I have gotten barbaric. This is not a smooth transition from this life to the next. This is abrupt.
As I ensure that in fact, Mr. Skinny Legs is no longer sharing in my vulnerable space, I see one last little leg hooked over one of the drainage cross hairs. As though he is a creature in a movie.
Why... I imagine him screaming.
I felt that this piece should do him respect.
He was a brave spider, fought till the end.
There is no guarantee he is dead, and maybe I will meet my shower companion again, only this time, it will be personal, for him at least.
More writing like this, only more serious of topic. Click Here. For my memoir Castle-Broken: When appearances are everything. A creative-nonfiction depiction of body image disorders in men and how they detriment everyone.
God Bless.
My movements, quick. I time the morning just right to get all that I can done all by the minute. One variable, any instance of unaccounted for time, I will be late to work.
(Flap) Opens shower curtain.
"Jeeze, look at that!" A spider, a "Mr. Skinny Legs" as our favorite cartoon pig in this house refers to.
I can't help but find the humor in the fact that in one episode of the infamous, Peppa Pig, Daddy Pig, makes a claim about how he likes spiders, until he meets a large one. Then he goes to get Mommy Pig.
If those were the rules, then I should go upstairs now, wake my wife from her slumber, and let her deal with this thing.
He is a large spider, probably one of those, "wolf" spiders, which are any other spiders I see here in Nebraska besides Daddy Long Legs. Names of spiders are not a specialty, however if they are poisonous or not is. I do know there are spiders that are poisonous with potential to harm and those should be feared, but, from my limited and non-researched understanding, those are rare, at least here.
So, the spider falls from the shower curtain, hitting the ground, making a disturbing sound. A combination of butt and tiny, lighter legs, almost a crinkle after a slight thud. The spider scurries away, he wants no trouble. However, his last friend I carried up and outside, a smaller version of this one, in fact, I can't help but make up a story that this could be him.
Nonetheless, I have to get ready.
(Wshhhh) the shower turns on. The spider is no where to be seen.
Poor thing, went down the drain, just like that.
I have never been good at physics or measuring things, but the size of that spider and the size of the drain holes do not seem to fit.
I am naked now. I am naked and in a hurry.
Into the shower, the soap in my hair, a feeling that someone or something is watching me. A familiar feeling in a place such as the shower, naked, alone, distracted by the warm water, the soapy cleansing. One eye lid opens as water rushed all soap from its way.
"Ahhhh!" Only do that sound with a masculine voice, uh hem, it was more like..."Oh!"
No, I was scared. I was frightened in my vulnerable state. And in my fight to survive, I shifted my body, the tricking water shifted as well. Mr. Skinny legs was hit was a sprinkling of water. Thus his large body shriveled into a ball, his defense I assume.
Tick tick tick I am aware of the time.
(Sqqquuuuirt) An industrial-sized liter of shampoo squeezes onto my furry, 8-legged shower companion.
He is immersed in soap now, inevitably dead. As I take the shampoo bottle, and switch the mass of soap and spidery corpse into the drain to wash away my murder, which I defend as self-defense, the mass is intact too large to go down the drain.
(smash smash smash. Bang bang bang. Scraaaape!)
Now I have gotten barbaric. This is not a smooth transition from this life to the next. This is abrupt.
As I ensure that in fact, Mr. Skinny Legs is no longer sharing in my vulnerable space, I see one last little leg hooked over one of the drainage cross hairs. As though he is a creature in a movie.
Why... I imagine him screaming.
I felt that this piece should do him respect.
He was a brave spider, fought till the end.
There is no guarantee he is dead, and maybe I will meet my shower companion again, only this time, it will be personal, for him at least.
More writing like this, only more serious of topic. Click Here. For my memoir Castle-Broken: When appearances are everything. A creative-nonfiction depiction of body image disorders in men and how they detriment everyone.
God Bless.
Comments
Post a Comment