Could I just ignore it? I made it through about three words of a sentence before accepting that something had to be done. Had I a bed-parter, I would have delegated the task. But I was alone.
'Okay', I groaned, throwing back the covers, 'you can't stay.'
I found a magazine and folded it up. 'Sorry about this guy...' and I swatted him.
The worst possible outcome. He fell off the ceiling and landed on my bed. Still moving. He was alive and in my bed! Ack!
I threw the covers away from him, not sure what to do. I couldn't squish him IN my sheets, leaving spider gook on my bed. I couldn't let him stay there; that's not my preferred type of bed-parter.
I had a vague notion of getting him to walk onto the magazine, but did't want him near me. I ended up sweeping him off the bed onto the floor.
Where I promptly lost sight of him. Another poor outcome. I ran to turn on the overhead lights and look around, but he had vanished without a trace.
So now I'm huddled under my covers looking around. Somewhere is a spider lurking, a spider who touched my warm bed, a spider with a reason to hold a grudge.
I shall sleep well tonight.
