The Tickle

It had been a long day at work. And a long drive home. I was exhausted. I arrived home at 9 p.m., unwary of what was going to happen. When I walked into my house, things were out of order. The TV was on, and on a static channel, and there was noise coming from the kitchen. I began walking towards the source of the noise, and was shocked when I pushed open the kitchen door. Lying on the floor was a mess of dog food.

My fucking dog spilt his bowl. I got the TV working again and watched it for a while. It was 11 p.m. now, when I usually go to bed. I headed up the stairs and went into my room. Flicked on the lights. Someone was in my bed. Someone was in my bed. It was a female figure, with dark black hair and a blank expression on her face, she appeared to be sleeping. It was my wife. I climbed into bed and fell asleep quickly.

I woke in the middle of the night to a tickle on my leg. I scratched my legs and nothing was out of the ordinary. I drifted back to sleep. The next day, I was off from work. Wife had to go to a business meeting out of town, so I had the house to myself. I liked this: I just sat on my chair watching TV and got high.

That night would change my life, however. I was tired early this day, I went to my room to sleep at 9:45. I awoke once again to a tickle on my leg, but it was stronger this time. I bolted out of bed and ran for the light. I turned it on, looked at the bed, and screamed. There was a spider on the bed. If I hadn't noticed it, it could've tickled me all night: I was lucky...

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