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October 28, 2016

First it was a shiny, shiny black widow spider with a bulbous back and long delicate legs. It was large, the size of a hand and had a red stripe down its back like its New Zealand cousin, the katipo spider. It scuttled out of the container and disappeared under the many belongings and furniture in the room. I knew it was dangerous but it was out there, hiding somewhere and I was going to have to live with it.

The next night, the spider was smaller, a heavier hairy thing. When it was released from its container, some sort of metal pot, it expanded to the size of tarantula. Someone else was with me and we managed to put it in an old-fashioned brown box with a pretty pattern. It was a box for a porcelain ornament or scented candle. The spider fitted perfectly inside, its legs tight against its body. I was about to put the lid on when I woke up.

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