I was thinking of my mother and those black spots a doctor found in her lungs. It's not cancer, so there is that relief. I worried she suffered pneumonia, but that doctor was hopeful. The prognosis is good despite my mother still being at the hospital and laying in Intensive Care. She will be home in a week.
Casually, I yet wonder about the spots. I consider possibilities. They could be spiders - oh, my sister would not want to hear that. Still, the popular fact is people ingest so many insects every year while they sleep. And more, My mother snores. She will be angry once she reads so. Yet, she was furious in her sleep - according to my memories.
I imagine blind spiders in the dark on the woman's tongue, tasting with their feet the remains of whatever she has had to eat. While they are there, mom snorts. She pulls throttled oxygen into her lungs and, too, the oral explorers. They tumble down her windpipe in a torrent of mucous and phlegm; torn apart, dismembered by the constricting muscles of her throat. The bugs suffocate in her chest – but, thankfully, it's not cancer. Just black spots of arachnid.
Science will say the amputated spiders are dead. Common sense would claim the same. We will know soon. I hope in the week she coughs them out. I can't bear the concept they might stay inside her and disintegrate. Any case, my whole family will see. We'll have news once my mother can draw air without assistance. She can tell us her ideas when she can speak.
- Matthew Sawyer
(aka Mr. Binger)