He had been having the most peculiar dream, not all together unpleasant. A red headed woman was singing to him. Singing a song that sounded suspiciously like "Waltzing Matilda," but he couldn't be sure. Whatever the lullaby was, though, he was woken up too soon to know for certain, and much too soon for his liking.
"Oswald Potter! You get out here this ruddy minute and get your cousin's school robes out of the basement! He's frightened the Redbacks will try to bite him again, and you had ought to be used to them by now!"
It was true. Ozzie had developed a particular apathy towards spiders. He did, after all, live in a broom cupboard, which would be spider-ridden at best in any normal country. This particular broom cupboard, however, was in Australia. Rather than be terrified of the behemoth arachnids, he had simply learned to embrace them. Figuratively, of course.
"Coming, Aunt Wattle," he answered glumly, picking off a huntsman the size of his face from the front of his pajamas.
He trudged down the hall and opened the door to the basement with mild disinterest. Aunt Wattle hadn't been kidding. It was jam packed with spiders, scorpions, German backpackers, and other problem species known to lurk in the Australian wilderness. Undeterred, he stepped through the array of intimidating creatures, pausing only to take a bite of a snack that some blond girl named Inga told him she had bought at Aldi. He was grateful for the nourishment, because he would need it when he faced the terrifying creature sitting atop of his cousin's uniform.
TO BE CONTINUED!