Posted on Saturday, October 6, 2012
in Strange and Unusual
Dear Spider on my Ceiling;
I understand that it is your right to be, and that you have as much of a right to be on this planet as I do. This is why I didn’t hoover you up earlier on while I had the opportunity, for hoover nozzles far outreach the inconvenience of having to grab a stool, a pint-glass and a postcard, or indeed a hefty shoe, for that matter. I hope you appreciate this.
I just wonder…
What is it that you’ve been thinking for this past eleven hours?
I know you’re alive, for I’ve poked you in curiosity and I’ve seen you curl your forelegs in avoidance but surely you must know by now that I am not a threat. I welcome your abilities, so long as you don’t find your way into my bedroom and possibly into my mouth during the night.
Are you a spy?
Are you working for the government, or a secret intelligence of some sort?
Are you stealing my recipes as I cook?
How have you stayed so still for such a long time, casting ghastly shadows across my ceiling and making me strain my neck in wonderment? Do you not feel guilty about having done so little with your short life?
You must have gathered so much information up there this past day. It frustrates me that you have no outlet for your creativity, that your wee spider legs are too week to press keys on my laptop, that you don’t understand the intricacies of the English language. I do hope you’re not pregnant, for I’ve noticed the lack of good-looking spiders around here so I dread to wonder what took advantage of you. If you are however, no matter… I know you’ll be a good mother because you obviously have an abundance of patience which can only be a good thing when you have sixty nappies to change all-at-once.
I know that tomorrow, you’ll have disappeared. I’ll wonder where you are and that wonderment will lead to my regretting not having hoovered you up, but wherever you’ll be, I hope your experiences on my kitchen ceiling will have taught you something, if not alone how to dice a clove of garlic.
Good luck little dude,
With love from yer wan who’s been staring upward at you for this past hour, mouth ajar.
Thank you for not dropping in to it unexpectedly.