The revenge of the spiders

It's karma, I tell you. I didn't let that spider in on that rainy day. S/he sent his/her brethren to assault me. There I was in my window alcove when I turn around and this huuuge spider is dangling from the ceiling, hanging in the way of freedom. There was no way to go but through the window. I went into hysterics: crying and screaming for help, for here was this spider dangling inches from me, nearly on me if I moved.

I wasn't ready to jump out of the window, so I emptied my pencil box (all the while still crying hysterically), and opened it on its hinges. Quickly I snapped it shut around the dangling spider. Still crying, I ran to the lift lobby and to the other end of the corridor, where I dropped the box which fell open. Crying still, I ran back to the safety of my house.

Shattered nerves. Had to call Lily and cry. And now I feel silly. The rational has regained control. Why am I so frightened of spiders?

Also, a moot point; if I'm getting murdered, no one will know or care. Because for sure, if I was getting murdered I would scream a lot lot less than I did now. Hmph. Some unfeeling neighbours I have. A real neighbour would have come running to find the damsel in distress.