The last time I went to the library, I was absolutely determined to get a Neil Gaiman book.
Every time I see a new book by him, I think, gee, I'd like to read that. That started about five years ago, give or take a year. It's taken me this long to remember Mr. Gaiman after arriving at the library. And now, he's this incredibly huge author (not fat-huge, popular-huge) and his books are on an incredibly long wait list. I despise waiting for a book. So, I checked out one of his older books called Anansi Boys.
I was immediately sucked in by the story and loved the way Mr. Gaiman weaved fantasy with reality. The fantasy part dealt with Anansi, the tricky spider character from old African stories. And the day I finished reading the book, I woke up with the most incredibly strange itching on my back. I nearly wrenched my neck out of its socket to see the small of my back from whence the itching came. And then I saw it: four pink spots on my previosly unblemished back.
"What is that on my back?" I asked the benficent Mr. Hall as he sprayed anti-itching stuff on the now huge, red welts. And then, suddenly I knew. They were spider bites. Big, old, incredibly itchy spider bites.
Coincidence? I think not.
(P.S. Condolences to Mr. Gaiman on the recent loss of his father. You can read about his other books, which you won't be able to check out from the library, at his website here.)
Oh, and thanks to aussiegall at flickr.com for the incredibly cool dancing spider.