The Arachnid Obedience School

july themes

6:  teaching spiders to obey


When Felicity opened The Arachnid Obedience School most people scoffed. Training spiders??? Who’d ever heard of such a thing!!

Unperturbed Felicity set out to become famous for being the best spider wrangler in the world. Six months later she was.


Arachnophobic people from all corners of the earth flocked to her expensive 6 wk course, leaving confident in their newly learned spider training skills. No more need for screaming and squishing, the mere use of certain words in certain tones left spiders powerless to disobey.


Everyone was happy. Felicity became rich and famous. Former spider haters became emboldened. The spiders themselves, having brokered the original deal with Felicity, banked their 60% and made further plans to take over the world. Faux obedience has its benefits.



Copyright July 2014


One Hump the Third

july themes

1: The Dromedary Bequest


Great Uncle Charles Edward John {One hump} Dromedary the Third died one day after his blow out 99th birthday feast.  After his funeral the family gathered for the reading of the Will, only to discover he’d left everything, bar a table, to the local Brothel owner. The table was to go to me, his favourite great niece.

Whilst the family ranted and raved, I picked up my eight legged table and went home, feeling just as badly done to as the others, but not wanting to show it.

The table itself was hideous and badly needed a polish. I had never known why Uncle Charles had kept it by his bedside, but as he’d left it to me to do what I wanted with, I decided to clean and then sell it. It looked old enough to be an antique.

All afternoon I rubbed and polished. The smell of beeswax permeated my home. I felt myself relaxing the more I polished and soon I was rewarded by carven images appearing on the table’s surface. Caught in relief I saw my Uncle being devoured by a giant spider. As I looked more closely I saw it was my Aunty, who had died when I was eleven, her face smiling as she ate my Uncle from the feet up.

The table scuttled on its eight legs over to the side of my bed, where it settled as if it had always been there. As Uncle Charles choked in pain and Aunt Arachne waved at me with her eight furry legs, I smiled back in acknowledgement of our shared genes and name. I switched off the light, climbed under the covers and dreamt of gossamer cobwebs and blood.


Copyright July 2014

Spider High

Spider hooked on crystal meth
A kamikaze arachnid
On the march
With the nine lives of a cat
I put it out two nights ago
Yet here it is again
Eight legs flying
Then disappearing again

My imagination
Is terrorised
With the thought
Of eight hairy little legs
Clambering over mine
In my sleep

When it appears again
Will I squish it?
Or spray it?
Or allow the cat to slay it?

Here it is
There it goes
Out the door again
The drug high has worn off
It’s just a spider again


Copyright Dec 2012