Extract from The Non Adventures of Alice the Erotic Author by Ava Manello

Frau beim strippen (Colorkey)

The incident with the Spider

It’s only been a few days, but I’ve learned
one of the pitfalls of living on your own. There’s no one else to get rid of
the spiders!

I’ve had arachnophobia for as long as I can
remember; even small spiders see me running from the room. The beast that shared
my bathroom this evening was far from small, I recognize it as a wolf spider.
If you don’t know what that is, just imagine a spider with long legs that’s
almost the size of the palm of your hand. I don’t care what it’s called right
now though; it’s a bloody squatter. As I’m paying the rent on this house, it’s
getting evicted.

Don’t ask me why my eyes were drawn to the
side of the toilet u-bend, I’ve no idea. I’d gone into the bathroom to answer a
call of nature and nearly wet myself in fear. The offending beast was sitting
there large as life on the bathroom wall, half hidden by a water pipe. I looked
around the bathroom, finding nothing suitable in reach. With my back to the
wall and my eyes on my uninvited guest I slicked my way into the kitchen.
Nothing! It comes to something when the only thing suitable to deal with a
spider is a wooden spoon. I had nothing longer. Picking up a can of fly spray
as back up I braved my way back to the bathroom. He was still there. I

Edging closer as slowly as I could my eyes
never left the interloper. My whole body was braced for even the slightest hint
of movement from the eight-legged monster. The handle of the wooden spoon
suddenly felt way too small, I would have been more comfortable with something
six foot in length that shot flames and electrocuted the little bugger.

I shrieked as a leg showed signs of
movement. My whole body was on edge and my heart was beating as though it was
trying to escape my chest.

‘Listen you little fucker!’ I screeched. ‘I’m
paying the rent here and there’s no room for lodgers.’ I hissed. Turning the
fly spray on him, I gave it my all.

Now normally fly spray is a choking but
fine mist. Not when you aim most of a can at an Olympic record paced spider as
it races around the bathroom wall towards you. No, when you have it on almost
constant spray it kind of turns into foam. I’m not sure if the spider started
suffocating, but at least he started to slow down just as he came to the radiator
I was cowering next to. Before he made it to the safety of the rear of the
radiator I let loose with the wooden spoon. I beat that little fekker to death.
I have no shame over this; I don’t care if it was one of God’s creatures. At
that moment in time – it was him or me.

I looked down at the wooden spoon in
disgust. That would have to go in the bin, along with the squished remains of
my unwanted visitor. Now, if you’re a fellow arachnophobe you’ll understand
that it couldn’t go in the kitchen bin. That was far too risky, despite his
squished and very dead state, there’s that part of you that still believes the
little sod will come back to life in the night and come and get you! With that
in mind I opened the back door, raised the bin lid and disposed of the spider
spoon with haste.

I rushed back into the house, slamming the
door behind me and checking it was locked. My skin was still crawling at the
thought of what I’d just seen and experienced.

When I finally stopped shaking, I gave
myself a mental high five; I’d just survived my first spider.

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