Phobia a Piece of Stuff by Christina (Christina Myers) Do you hate spiders? You're not alone... There's a spider that lives in the aviary. This may not seem like such a terrible event. And aren't birds meant to eat spiders? Mine don't. My birds are cute little budgies. David Campese recently lay eggs which hatched out into disgusting worm-like creatures that are nonetheless very beautiful. David Campese mated with her own son to produce these youngsters. She's okay with things like that. And Muriel The Second looks to be making a pair of it with Basil. Basil's the big green one who loves spinach. Bird Without Name still hangs upside down from the roof when I walk past. I think he has a Bat Complex. Muffin the cat still climbs on the roof and then cries because she can't get down. Next door's dog still barks a lot when he sees her. The birds still all go crazy when somebody walks past holding a bunch of green vegetables picked from the veggie garden. Nobody else seems to care that there is a big, hairy, eight legged spider living there. In OUR aviary. It's the eight leg thing that gets me. You know? I can handle hairy, after all I have three cats. I can handle big, cause two of the cats are enormous. But as soon as I see those legs, I panic. The birds are going hungry. They need more seed. More water too. And the main perch has fallen down. Now they're all getting Bat Complexes. But I just can't go in there. No way. Not since I saw Ralph. I gave him a name. I think it seems more personal that way. I'm not just hating an anonymous insect...he's identified. An identified insect. Maybe it's a she. Aren't they more poisonous? I don't know. I don't know anything. I've forgotten when I first saw Ralph. I've stopped thinking rationally. I can't go into the back garden. It might get out and come after me. Maybe it will crawl around with those repulsive eight legs to the front garden - mustn't go there either. I have to stay inside the house. The walls of my room are closing in on me. I scream "HELP" but nobody comes. I probably forgot to actually open my mouth. There's heaps of small spaces in my room. Lots of mess and piles of clothes on the carpet. Anything could be in those piles. Ralph could be in those piles. Get out. Have to get out. Maybe the bathroom. All those clean white tiles and nowhere for insects to hide. I've locked myself in. Nobody can come after me, especially nobody with eight legs. I peer out the safely locked window toward the avairy. The birds are all pecking around on the floor searching for bits of seed. They don't look too well. Perhaps I should feed them...NO. Don't think like that. Don't ever give up. I sit in the gloriously smooth, plain, cold, empty bathtub and place the plug in the drain. As my hand runs over the tap I remember 'Arachnophobia'. No spiders appear to be tumbling out yet but there's all the time in the world. I snatch cotton balls and jam them up the tap. Much better. So many crevices I'd never noticed before. All this plugging up of anywhere a spider may be is irritating me. So is my back. There's an itchy spot. I reach to scratch it. And there, snuggled in between the skin and my jumper is Ralph.- I was expecting it. But not so soon. I scream. I jump. As my life flashes before my eyes I remember back to an excursion we went on in Kindergarten. It was at the Fire Station. They told us to Stop, Drop, Roll in case of fire. Good advice - I remembered it! I stop, drop, roll. Ralph is squished. Finally I can feed the budgies. All the seed, water and even spinach that they could want. I even give Muffin a lift onto the aviary roof, and I call to the dog next door so that he can start barking. Suddenly I notice that it wasn't Ralph in the bathroom after all. Ralph is still living in amongst the wood beams in the aviary. I scream and run back inside. I hate daddy long legs. Created on Wed, 24 Dec 1997 and last modified on Fri, 27 Feb 1998.

LOUDonline - http://www.loud.net.au - Wed, 8 Jul 1998