I lost my spider as suddenly as she had come. It had to be her from the way she behaved. She had made a web into my bathroom, and one day I found myself staring at her to all her six eyes. Not eight, as was more common. Six, I counted through my lens. She was the smallest little spider I had ever seen, but I saw how big and complicated and clever she was through my lens. Her intricate web had a hole for her to act. There she stayed for weeks, waiting for prey to land.
At first, I thought I should get rid of her, but then I remembered what my grandma had told me. Spiders bring luck into the household. But that wasn’t all why I let her stay. My bathroom was as much of hers as it was mine. Through all the weeks together, I grew fond of her, wanting to see her every time I went in. She was the first clear thing I saw every morning, and I greeted her. I know it is silly as we don’t speak the same language, but it made me feel better, and I’m sure she was the reason I was in a good mood the whole time she was with me.
So here we are, she is gone, and I find myself thinking her every turn I see the empty web full of dust. Should I wipe the remaining memories of her or let the web stay there in the hope she will come back? All of us know she isn’t coming back. She bid her time, and when there was no prey to be had, she moved on. So why can’t I move on? She gave all she had for me, and that was happiness for the duration of our paths crossed. And I, what did I give her? Not killing someone isn’t really giving anything. But maybe understanding and appreciation are all I could do, and that was enough. Who can really say?
Yet, I can’t part from the feeling there is a hole where she had been. Maybe grandma was right, spiders hold specialness, and they bring luck for those willing to take.
Thank you for reading, have a spidery day ❤
P.S. This was meant to turn into a magical realism piece or the spider being a spirit of some sort or a mechanical creature, but I just miss her too much, and so this is a goodbye piece to her. Thank you for stepping into my life. Wherever you go, I wish you good hunting.
(Sorry about this not being a proper story.)
© K.A. Ashcomb