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Post Traumatic Stress

OC made light of the centipede episode, but I really didn’t take it all that lightly. We leave the windows wide open so the breeze can blow through the house — the standard in island air conditioning — and occasionally other things blow through as well. Last night it was a dead leaf from a house plant. It skittered across the floor brown and serpentine — and a nanosecond later I was hanging from the ceiling fan with my feet tucked into my armpits. OC, always my hero, snatched the leaf and crushed it in his bare hands. I said, “Thank you. Now it won’t scare me again.”

He looked at me incredulously, “Scare you? I don’t want it scaring me again!”

Quilly is the pseudonym of Charlene L. Amsden, who lives on The Big Island in Hawaii. When she is not hanging out with Amoeba, she is likely teaching or sewing. Or she could be cooking, taking photographs, or even writing. But if she's not doing any of that, she's probably on Facebook or tinkering with her blog.


  1. Oh, yeah. I know what you mean. If I see one of those HUGE spiders before I go to bed, I’ll be trying to go to sleep, and just sure that I can hear one of them scurrying over the blankets to get to me!

  2. Quilly… I had NO idea you were so agile! I wish I could get MY toes up into my armpits! *going off to stretch some more and practice*

  3. Nessa — spreading fear is my aim in life — that’s why I’m a teacher.

    Jackie — they don’t seem to haunt my dreams, but they certainly claim too many of my waking moments.

    Melli — fear facilitates many maneuvers never before accomplished and likely never to be accomplished again without a massive adrenaline spurt.

  4. you wouldn’t want to be here in Calgary at the moment, there are millions of dead leaves just waiting to scare you. We are at the height of our Autumn. By the time Halloween gets here the trees will be bare. Very Ghoulish.

    A Wonderful Sunday is wished for you and OC

  5. Leaves can be deadly. You were lucky that time. OC saved your life. Give him anything he wishes, beyond normal.

    I’m tellin’ ya Quills, we are missing four small children to those skittering leaves. The Maple ones are the worst.

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