Down came the rolled-up magazine immediately behind, causing
me to jump not a little and loosening my moorings from the marble tile. I gave
Mummy a “What the devil?” look then turned in a circle to get a view of the
crash site.
There must be some explanation, I thought. The obvious one
aside (Mummy has gone mad) and desiring to extend the benefit of the doubt,
surely there was some just cause for her paper-wielding outburst.
What I observed as Mummy raised the homemade swatter was a
dazed but menacing-looking eight-legged creature who had apparently been
stalking me unawares and who appeared still intent on his evil deed, providing
he could first catch the license number of that truck.
I was astonished!
To think that if Mummy had not been hanging around idly rolling
up papers, I might have been an Arachnid Breakfast.
Or at the very least, my wild fur would have become a home
for wayward spiders.
*sHudDeR*
tee hee - you could have been bitten! Mummy to the rescue again, I see. ;)
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