Killing The Killer

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a tiny fly in the air above the couch where I’m writing. When I look directly at it, though, it’s gone.

I catch a glimpse of it again, so when I see something moving on my chest, I react without thinking and smack it.

When I lift my hand, though, I realize it’s not a fly that I’ve killed, but a spider, and my heart sinks.