And so it continues..
I.Kitty vs The Arachnid World - The Return Of The Spider King
The heat was deathly. My mood was worse. I stormed from the house, a maelstrom of anger and bubbling fury. I slammed the car door closed and sped off, the sun beating down on my white skin, frying it mercilessly. I turn up the air con. My mood improves as I speed along, weaving in and out of traffic, flying through amber-marked intersections, Rammstein blaring.
And then it happened.
From under the windscreen wiper came eight hairy legs, eight deathly cold eyes. It paused briefly, making sure its presence was known, then it pelted up the windscreen and over the roof. Now, I am quite a cool, calm and collected person in an dangerous situation, so naturally I had a heart attack without losing control of the car, or indeed, slowing down at all. I pressed the button that would wind up my window, cursing the slowness of the electronic operation. I check the rear-view mirror. The little sucker is running across the boot. Its legs scuttling here and there. And then, as if it knows I am looking, it turns and runs up the back window, across the roof, down the front windscreen and back under the wiper blade.
I remember to breathe again and let out a strained breath which sounded suspiciously like an "eep". I reach for a cigarette as I realise I cant have one. I figure the best plan is to get to work as soon as humanly possible. I change lanes, and stop at a red light. I notice the car in front as the infamous yellow L plates stuck crudely to the back. However, I am forever an optimist and hope that this is an advanced learner, one who understands that driving at the speed limit isn't a bad thing. I was wrong, again life blows a raspberry at me, and I smell the stench of gin on its breath.
After taking 15 minutes to drive a stretch of road that should have taken 5 minutes, I start to notice that it aint so cool in my car no more. My aircon is no longer blowing cold air. I do some quick maths. At the rate I was currently travelling, by the distance I still had to go, I was going to die of heat exhaustion before I had a chance to open a window and breathe some fresh air. Spider Country is bad, but in summer it is hell.
Then - a miracle. The learner driver turned off the street we were on. I speed ahead. I suffer every red light. But I make it to work. I scramble out of the car with all the grace of rusty cheese grater, slam the door and get as far away as possible from this vehicle of death.
I arrive at work, and regale my colleagues with my tale. And remind them of Episode One and we all have a few laughs and forget about it.
Midnight.
The witching hour. All God's creatures safely tucked away, sleeping the peaceful sleep of small children and animals. And the time when the critters come out to play. I approach my car. Keys in hand. Breath in throat. (Mind in gutter, but that's no surprise.) My eyes travel over the car. Nothing. My brave assistant, Jamie, looks under the hood. Clears out some leaves. Still nothing. By this time we are both satisfied that the spider has given in and moved on. We say our farewells and I drive away.
Not two minutes later, sitting on the hood like some bond-villain was the Spider King. Its eyes glinting in the yellow moon light. Its hair rippling in the breeze. This time, I am prepared. I know its tactics, I like to think I have the advantage, yet I cant help but feel like an American G.I in Vietnam. I have the technology and the raw power, but it knows the terrain and is small and swift and can strike without warning. My terror rises. It makes its move. It scuttles to the left, along the side of the car. And like that, it was gone. I check the rear-view: nothing. I look over my shoulder: still nothing. I drive on and wait. Still nothing.
And on I drive. I have no choice. I follow the road longing to be home, and again dreading it all at once. Has the beast found some new place to hide? Has it fallen off along the way? I start to get paranoid. What if this Spider King is hiding, forcing me into a false sense of security, waiting for me to think it has gone, only then to strike! What horrible spidery things would it do to me?? I knew not. I knew only that tonight's denouement was near.
I park. I grab my things. I open the car door and leap to safety, my bag still inside. My eyes dart over the car once more - it appears to spider-free, but I know not to trust that. I grab my bag. Its snagged on the park break. I tug. It wont move. Was that a spider on the roof? Its too dark, I cant see well enough. My composure cracks. I lunge into the car and unhook the bag, yanking it free. The door slams. I fumble the keys trying to lock it. I hear a click. The car is locked. I grab the keys and bag and run into the house, I close the door and sink down, breathing heavily. I did not win, but I did not lose.
And thus details yet another saga from the I.Kitty vs The Arachnid World Chronicles.