Beatrice lay naked on the bed thinking of her lover.
‘Ouch!’ she cried.
Something bit her thigh. She inspected the bedsheets. A tiny spider.
She wanted to crush it, but it was so peculiar that she put it on her belly. It crawled round and round her navel, tickling her.
This week I am super busy writing Oliver Colors’ biography, so I will be republishing some choice 50-word stories.