I keep thinking of a spider I saw last summer. It came running out of my bedroom, and I caught it under an electric flyswatter. This thing had a frame just a little too big to let me push the electrified grid down on the floor and kill the sucker, so for a while I stood there crouched and wondered what I was going to do.The spider didn't move a millimeter.
I slid the device along the floor to trap the spider against the frame, but then my grip slipped and I left a tiny opening and the spider darted out. It was so fast I could hardly believe it.
Now, I don't have any serious fear of spiders, like a girl in my class back in school who had a panic attack just because someone threw a speck of dried moss in her direction and said it was a spider. But I have that instinctive revulsion for them that most people do. And it was huge, maybe the largest spider I've seen, and it was faster than me. Much faster.
And it was more patient than me.
It watched and waited for an opening, and then moved before I could react.
I never saw it again.
I feel watched now.
It's happening so fast.