along came a spider

Dear Mr. Spidey,

I can say I definitely had a "Miss Muffet" experience this evening. You gave me quite the fright as you were crawling towards my face over my comforter. I am sure you probably came in through the open window. Please note the window was open for fresh air, not as an invitation for you to join me under the covers. I know I was not a very kind hostess rocket-launching out of my bed holding back the urge to scream.

I'm sorry to say, but you were quite the unwelcome house guest. So unwelcome that when I came back to my bed with a tissue gingerly looking through the covers, I was plotting your extinction. When I could not find you, I took a fluffy blanket from the closet and my pillow (after a thorough inspection) out to the couch for the evening.

Upon walking back into my bedroom for a moment, I felt you wriggling up my arm. I immediately jumped and shook you off. If you found that rude, my sincerest apologies. It was there, crawling on my white bath mat, that you met your fate. You now rest in peace squashed between a tissue in the garbage can where you belong. Spideys do not belong indoors and most certainly are not meant to sleep in beds.

It is with relief and a certain sense of creepy crawly-ness that I write you this letter from my bed (which is now hopefully a spidey free zone). May your death be a statement to all other spideys who dare to enter my home.

Sorry you died,
Rebecca