What happened next?
Well, first of all I stood at the otherside of the door and threw hairgrips at it I am, afterall, a girl. I hit it but it was precariously balanced on a soap dish and the hairgrips were too small to make an impact. So then I stood there for twenty minutes wondering if it was poisonous.
Then I looked at my flip flop. I took it off and tried to kill it by holding the flipflop at either end and then pushing down firmly, but then it danced away. So I put my flip flop back on.
I shut the bathroom door for a while and tried to pretend it wasn't there. But then I couldn't
convince myself that it wasn't there. Even when I almost believed myself, I knew I was lying.
So I opened the door again. It was still on the soap dish. Then I realised there was a large water bottle. So I tried to stab it. But then it jumped. And disappeared into a bucket. Which had water in it. The spider swam around. So I stabbed it again. And then it pretended to be dead. So I scrapped it across the side of the bucket with the edge of the bottle. And then it was definately dead. And then I went to sleep!
Blood on my hands.
1 comment:
Hey Sarah,
I enjoyed your last two posts very much. So many people natter on about something that has no interest to others, or attempt to couch their prose in a framework of enlightenment or great insight.
In photography, there is a subject field called "Slice of Life, which doesn't claim to contain great beauty, enlighten us about wonderful vistas, or delve into unnoticed abstractions. but rather, with clarity and honesty looks at a microcosm of life, present it, and then allow us to make our own judgments. Cartier-Bresson was a master of this with his images he labeled "Decisive Moments."
Your writings are upholding a long and honored (honoured, if you prefer) tradition.
Bob
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