Spider season

It must be spider season. For the last several weeks, I've killed at least one spider in my house every day. Bug lovers; I'm not a wholesale murderer of little creatures. As a matter of fact, I am notoriously lenient with them, as well as a wide range of other pests, such as snakes, rats and mice, who I usually spare the death sentence and escort outside to the empty lot next door. Yeah, I'm soft that way.
But Arachnids? Death becomes them. They represent probably my most irrational phobia. And for some reason, maybe it's the change in the weather from the dry season to the rainy season, but they're heeeerrrreee..... A whole bunch of freshly hatched baby ones, small versions of the bug buggers that sometimes plague my home like evil spirits. And I shudder at the thought that, statistically, it is extremely likely that before the season is out, I will stumble upon the granddaddy of all the little ones I've been smacking. And I'm not looking forward to it.
Ah, life in the Caribbean. Anyhow, in honour of this creepy circumstance, my new short story for May is called Webs. And no, it's not creepy at all. In fact, it's rather romantic.
Have a look at it here.

If you like, you can read one of my opinion columns (yes, also about spiders) here.