The spider was out for revenge.
Gazing at the ceiling corner where her web had been, tears welled up in all eight of her eyes. It had been a spectacular web spun with the finest silk. The main loop alone had taken a full day to get perfectly concentric. No fly had been able to resist its allure and she had eaten well. She had planned to raise a family in it, but that dream had been swept away along with the pearly white egg sack.
The only hint that her home had ever existed was the stain on the wall where her mate had been squashed. Sure, she had planned to eat him later that afternoon, but in way, that only made his death more tragic.
The spider dabbed her eyes with a furry leg. It was time to get even.
Below her was the perpetrator of the massacre. Missy "Spider Killer" Muffet bustled about her kitchen making herself lunch. In the corner leaned the murder weapon, a straw broom. Missy had long blond hair, a small upturned nose, and a splash of freckles on her cheeks. White flowers decorated her blue summer dress and her feet were bare. She hummed a jaunty tune, not a care in the world. Obviously her conscience was clean.
"Psychopath," thought the spider.
The spider wished she had poisonous fangs, like one of those cool Black Widows. But, as it was, she would have to be more subtle.
She followed Missy into her parlor. Missy sat on her favorite stool in front of a big picture window and began eating her cottage cheese and carrots.
The spider anchored a thread to the ceiling and began her descent. Her bulbous brown body soon dangled over Missy's head, so close that if she stretched out her fore legs she could touch a wisp of Missy's corn silk hair.
With a gentle push, the spider swung herself over the plate and cut the line. She landed in the cottage cheese and began to sink. Her legs flailed for a moment, and then her feet touched the firmness of the plate. The spider heaved a sigh of relief.
Suddenly, Missy's wide silver spun swept the spider up. Missy gazed out the window, not paying attention, and before the spider knew what was happening, she was in the killer's mouth.
Missy's tongue tossed and turned the spider and her teeth rose and fell, crushing and mincing the cottage cheese. Desperately, the spider jumped onto her uvula.
Missy stopped chewing. There was a terrible, glack sound and she spat the spider onto the plate.
Bruised and soaked, the spider looked up at Missy. Their eyes met.
Missy screamed and hurled the plate across the room, but the spider leapt onto Missy's hand. Dodging a slap, she ran up Missy's arm and under her sleeve.
Missy jumped off her stool and flailed like a drunken dancer. After a minute she stopped. Panting, she checked her arms and legs for any sign of the spider.
Clutching onto one of Missy's bangs, the spider suddenly dropped down in front of her face.
Missy shrieked and swatted the spider away. She ran screaming from the house, never to return.
The spider surveyed her hard won domain. She spotted a lovely corner, dry, with plenty of light. Climbing up into it, she started spinning a web.
Copyright 2012 John Lance