SandScript 2020

Lady-Girl
Renee Terry
Phase one to befriending a
tarantula, be still. Phase two,
smile. Phase three, offer a flat hand for her
to investigate.
I slid soundlessly off the wooden
stoop by the tin door of the shed and
lowered my torso to rest on my forearms in
the sand. So pretty—the luxurious fur on
the spider’s legs and back spiked, as though
coated with a hair gel, and picked with a
comb; the rich copper, brown, and orange
colors on the body and legs. Such confidence
when she walked, keeping her eight graceful
legs in motion, no hurry, we’re cool.
“Hey, lady. Tonya?” I breathed gently,
lifting a soft waft of fuzz by her face and
looked for the witness mark of her slightly
shorter starboard leg. She must have lost
the appendage in a tussle a year or so ago.
Maybe the leg would be fully restored after
her next molting. “Not going to stop and say
good morning?”
Tonya’s butt lifted as she picked
up speed heading for her hole by the
FICTION
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