White Painted Walls

There was a spider on the wall of Dad’s bedroom. It was about the size of a grape. But that was big enough. “Can you get rid of it?” I asked. Dad just smiled his lazy smile, not even looking away from the television. The next day, there were three or four of them, larger than the first. I felt queasy as I watched them scamper about, their long legs stumbling over the flaking plaster. “Dad,” I wailed, but he shooed me away as if he didn’t want them to be disturbed. The day after was a Saturday, and I … Continue reading White Painted Walls