Arachnaphobia - Julian Perry

The Spidey-Sense tingles,

alerting you to the barely audible tapping of eight pointy feet

neck hairs rise, cold sets in

roving eyes seek out the trespasser

the spider moves into view.

It is black, a ubiquitous indoor spider

small enough to fit on a nickel or quarter,

looming in your mind like Godzilla over Tokyo.

Which starts first?

Twitching, a vague itchy feeling that settles around the joints, back

laces that are hard to scratch

shallow breathing, afraid to alert the monster to your presence,

or the frozen panic.

Moments later it's gone, back outside.

But you can still feel its phantom feet

tip-toeing across your consciousness.