Firewood

A very small spider descends from the ceiling, three meters high. It lands on the pillow, drops a little further, gets lost in a fold of the sheets, and reappears, crossing the entire blanket, walking over the orange flower patterns. I slept with a huge fear of falling, like when I was a child and they laid me down surrounded by chairs. At my grandparents’ house, all the clocks are stopped.

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