Thurs Threads, week 105


There’s an art to responding to the call to kill a spider. You can’t ignore it for too long, even though you just got comfy on the couch, because what if this time it really is Shelob and your kid is seconds away from becoming lunch. You can’t jump up and run into the room, because then you’ll be at the beck and call of anyone who freaks out because there’s a fly on the screen – the outside of the screen. You can’t run away screaming like a little girl, even when it is Shelob cavorting with Aragog as they prepare the Feast That Lasts A Thousand Nights in the room, because everyone knows little girls are tough as nails and your daughter would totally have taken care of it, but six year olds just don’t have much reach with a mace. You have to stroll into the room as a savior of the weak, but without making a judgment as to who is weak, or why. You have to bring the right tool for the kill – your moccasin just won’t do, but it’s awkward to carry a sledgehammer wherever you go. And you have to be prepared to protect the poor creature and save it from anyone who would be callous enough to kill something that, after all, just was hungry, just in case there’s an entomologist around. 

And you have to pretend that you’re not terrified.


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