Theme 2
Theme 2: Spiders
Once again, I don't own anything.
This place would do. The grey-haired boy inspected the interior of the dim and abandoned mill that he had decided to call home; he couldn't see much light come in through the ceiling. At least this place had that much going for it.
As his eyes adjusted to the dark he could make out shadows of large machines left to rust. There were some old crates left around to disintegrate, as well as a broken chair that he thought could be made useful.
Deciding to leave no stone unturned, the boy began to search through the old crates, hoping for maybe a lamp or matches or, if he was extremely lucky, a bottomless pit full of hamburgers. Of course, he’d just settle for not slicing his fingers open on some rusted out blade in the dark of the box. That would certainly be an unpleasant surprise.
The boy froze; there was something in the box with his hand. He could feel it skitter on his hand.
“Oh please don’t be a spider, please don’t be a spider, please don’t be a spider…” He shut his eyes as he brought his hand out of the crate.
Not wanting to see what eight legged monster would await his eyes he flipped his hand. Without another glance at the crate the boy quickly wiped his hand on the leg of his pants. He would definitely have to be more careful about disturbing his new roommates if he stayed.