I cringed at the foot of the stairs,
imagining the horrors contained below.

Would there be goblins,
trolls, or more?
But bravely I marched forward,
knowing my mission was greater than any monster.


Bravely, timidly, I advanced to the next step.
With each new step, I pushed aside thoughts of beasts,
until, at last, I reached the bottom of the steps.
From there, I fled to the safe vicinity of my father’s arms
and, in trembling fear,
hurriedly described the monster in my room.


I grabbed his arm and he let himself get dragged upstairs.
I refused to go in my room,
simply pointed at the wall,
from which dangled claws, fangs, and a snarling mouth.

My shaking hand offered my father a tissue. Taking it from my hand,
he bravely walked up to the monster.


With a single swipe of his hand,
the monster’s body lay still on the tissue,
never to threaten a child again.
The spider was dead.
A hero was found.

The hero may have been ordinary,
to anyone else, that is,
but to the child,
the hero was extraordinary.