I picked a spider out of my hair today. Flicked it away nonchalantly. I did it quickly and with a cool demeanour so that people on the bus wouldn’t think something was up. The moment would pass and no one would be all the wiser. My strategy was perfect.
Then I realised, anyone who was focused enough to pay attention would have seen me do this. Not only would they think I was a walking nest of spiderlings but they would also think that in my life it was common place. I would have seemed like a tramp to them, an unwashed urchin. Or maybe worse, I had openly chosen to be this walking being of insectoid shelter. Under my skin a network of spiders may exist. I am no human, merely a machine of synthetic fibres and silk spun by the insects, being controlled in the brain by their tarantula queen.
"Hes going to kill us all!" Some may have cried, in their head.
The thing is I should have been more concerned with myself rather then other peoples perceptions of me. That way I would have remembered to pick up my bus pass before running off.
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