The Spider and the Exterminator

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Please read my short story named The Spider.

Submitted: February 15, 2013

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Submitted: February 15, 2013



It was a hot, blaring, Summer afternoon. I was going out tonight, to a gig, over at the university pub. I put on designer jeans and put on my going out shirt, a fitted light blue pin stripe shirt.

I lived in dormitary accomodation, atleast, until I left university and got a job. I cooked some pasta, on the hotplate I bought for my room, drained it, and mixed in corrianda pesto. The pesto I had bought when on an recreational walk, soaking up the city streets, in the afternoon, just as the weather was cooling off.

I had a gold chain for my neck, a gold bracelet, and my pride and joy, a gold and diamond, thick mens ring. I put my gold chain on and my gold bracelet, after a shower, with soap, body wash, thinx antiperspirent, and a good dusting of no. 31 after shave.

I had left my ring gently and caringly wrapped in purple tissue paper in the dresser draw, the dresser being one of very few bits of furnature, that squeezed into the small but windowed room, in Bristles Domitory. So I opened the only draw of the empty unused dresser expecting to find a wad of purple tissue paper containing my ring, but it wasn't there and in its place sat a furry, smart alex huntsman spider.

Someone had stolen my ring. I knew it because some of the students in my neighbouring dorm rooms were not so interested in study, as they were in being unsavoury characters. They boozed and seduced and stole, hussled and cheated, and my theory is that they stole my ring to fund these exploits.

I resolved that tommorow I would call the exterminater about the spider problem. And there was nothing I could do about the ring, the dorm neighbours had, I already knew, pawned it. Tonight I resolve to have fun, all dressed up, at the uni pub.

The gathering at the uni pub was a good one. We sat, a group of us all around, the tables, laughing, all of a sudden our table would let out a roar, that the other patrons would here. it was a good night. I even got to kiss Constance on the cheek

Night rose and fell, during my sleep, and it was the next day. i walked down the phone box and called the pest control man.

The pest inspector came one oclock that day. He was skinny but had power in his tendenous limbs. He let out a grunt when I showed him the spider in the draw. He smiled a smile at me

"I can get ridder' yer pest problem, but yer have to get out'er yer room till morning".

I had a place to stay so I let him spray my room.

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