When the sun had set and there was no light from the lamp the spiders crept out of the gloom. They were no ordinary spiders; they were horrible, poisonous, strangler spiders programmed to kill young boys and Lars believed that one night they were going to kill him. This thought often gave him nightmares and he used to wake up all wet and panic-stricken. Simon, on the contrary, was not afraid of the spiders. He didn't believe there were any dangerous spiders in Sweden. But Lars thought there was probably another explanation: Simon was a spider himself. Lars began to believe horrifying things about his brother. Simon was peculiar. He moved his fingers so that his hands looked like giant spiders and Lars felt he couldn't trust him.


Lars lay quite still in his bed and listened intently. A clicking noise came from the kitchen. It was Dad opening a can of beer. Mum was snoring in the bedroom opposite the boys' room and down on the street somebody was walking with heavy steps. Who could that be? Perhaps it was a man who in reality was a spider and a friend of Simon's. Sometimes the steps died away but returned after a while. Suddenly, whoever it was stopped under the boys´ window, or so it seemed. He was busy with something and he hammered on the wall. He evidently tried to climb up but couldn't get a grip. He was no spider and Lars sighed with relief. The noise from the street stopped and did not return.

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