Dreams

Spiders

In a building, don't remember why, just that we should be checking out the ceilings for something. Up above, another world, as if we had crossed some ethereal plane into dark Lovecraftian realms. There are six or eight of us, working to inspect the crawlspaces above the ceilings in some modern building. One of the men stops suddenly, twitches violently, utters a quick high scream and falls down. Collapses. We all stop, wary. One of the other men, a big guy with a quiet voice, tells us now in a hushed tone that we are all in danger, that the cobwebs all around us are infested with a rare arachnid, almost microscopic; very very poisonous. One by one we perceive the dust and remnants of cobwebs on our clothing and tools. Another man, heavyset and sweating, begins to shake. "Ah, ah!" he says, over and over again. I begin to tell him to shut up, stop being hysterical, when he too shrieks and crumples down. A woman starts moaning and crying. I ask the big man what to do. He points to a stairwell door, tells us all grimly we will "run for it." Ok. I drop my toolbelt and begin to run, drawing my arms inside my shirt and holding them up close to my head, so that I have a bit of shielding. It is close and hot and semi-opaque, but I can still see that I am one of only three left in the room; everyone else has run. The quiet man is first, I'm second. The last, a thin man, makes the stairwell but halts, screaming, as tiny black welts appear all over his face and hands...through my shirt they look like evil little beetles. He falters, falls. I take the stairs three at a time. We go up for some reason, because down is symbolically bad and besides, it's a lot darker down there.