Harvesting

Reaping what was sown.
I fear the consequences and reaping of my actions upon the poor innocent. Throwing them out into the cold and wilds.
Sometimes, with even more cruelty than I hardly dare confess to, luring them into the long, dark and claustrophobic tubes that is the vacuum cleaner.
Poor innocent wee spiders. My father taught me to never kill them and if he knew he would disown me I am sure.
But I am frightened of them and the look they give and all their black legs racing at speed in my house.
They have started to visit me regularly again and a magnifying glass could not make them more terrifyingly huge.

Back Blip