Battle lost

So the old sofa remains in our back garden.

I look at it with mild disdain and occasionally make token gestures of breaking it up by pulling off a further strip of material and peering inside it's bowels hoping for some as-yet-undiscovered treasure to present itself.

I think our neighbour has had enough of looking at it too. She hasn't mentioned it, only that a fox was 'living' in the shed next to it, but I know what she means.

Next to it, there is still a pile of debris from the chair I dismantled.

I convinced myself last night that if I moved this pile of wood, foam and dust filled faded material that my plan to get my life back on track would start there.

I put on some old trainers and approached the pile.

Lifting the top piece of chipboard, a large black spider peered back at me from his horrible vortex of a nest. I could see his eyes. He could probably see mine.

We stood looking at each other's eyes for around a minute or so - me trying to determine whether I would be able to remove him and carry the pile of chair remains to the car without a case of the screaming abdabs sneaking it's way up my spine, him just menacing me with his 8 glassy orbs like a spider shaped shark.

I decided to let him have his victory and lowered the chipboard.

You win spider. You win.