I live in a one bedroom apartment. As I stay awake by night and sleep by day, there are a few spiders outside my door. They let me be by day, and by night, they spin their webs. I know they are dangerous to me and especially to my pets, but we live and let live around here. If I didn't love meat so much I swear I'd be vegan. Anyhow, I have my spiders that live just out of my door and they only come out at night, even though I see that scary red spot on their belly.
In my shower, there are the other ones, the daddy long legs that I make sure to get out of the shower before I run the water; we can co-exist.
I'm sorry. Tonight, you, the black widow, made it into my bathroom. And I had to squash you. It makes me sad. You're just a spider trying to make your way; maybe I relate your plight to mine...I'm just trying to find out where I fit in this world, but now, inside my house, you were a danger to me, my dog, my cats, and I had to squash you. I am so sorry. Your siblings still live peacefully on my patio; they don't fuck with me and I won't fuck with them. But isn't that so symbolic for something more?
1 comment:
Funny - I was telling stories of the spiders in my bathroom to Chris and Steph one night at the Casbah, and they told me I should blog about them, but I haven't yet. I have lots of daddy long-leggers in my shower, and I usually just let them be - it's kind of like watching TV in the shower. Especially when they got into fights over territory and stuff.
But there was one in my living room one day that let a whole army of ants walk right past him and into my kitchen without doing anything about it. I had to squash the traitor as an example to his fellow spiders.
Post a Comment