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     She notices the spiders around her bed and wonders why they are congregating in the same place. Then she wonders if it’s a rouge nest. And then, Katrina sees that if she looks closely, they appear to be different spiders, perching on the edge of her fallen dream catcher: this is odd.

     A yellow garden spider whose legs make an x shape doesn't just hang out with a tiny red dot spider. Katrina tilts her head just in time to see the daddy long legs "waving them on" like a spindly construction crew foreman directing traffic while the other spiders drill, correcting potholes.

     The dreams of teeth fade. But there are spiders everywhere now, on her head descending out of her bangs, hanging by clear threads. The spiders seem to bounce off Katrina’s forehead, and then descend in long translucent miles.

     And then the nightmares are gone.

     Katrina doesn't mind it. For a long while she sees spiders in her house in great numbers. At night, their tiny black bodies are the last things she sees before her eyelids become too heavy. The spiders seem the stillest then. Almost watchful. It's comforting. Like a nightlight.

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Bio: D Kubota sells shoes like  a cobbler in a video game and writes flash fiction and children's literature on buses, in break rooms, and in her car. She has her Master's in Children's Literature from Hollins University and is just as amazed as you probably are that such a thing exists.

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