spider
i am lying in bed when i look up and in the corner of the ceiling there i see it.
eight long legs, exoskeleton, arachnid. a spider weaving its web.
it glides down on its candy floss thread as if to acknowledge my acknowledgement of it. who am i kidding? it is a spider, it is not capable of that.
immediately, i am entranced by my newfound companion. he is so graceful; long limbs clattering against each other, crafting his home, crafting his work of art. he is here. i am not alone. i know my mother would shake her head and get the broom. i know my father wouldn't even give it a second thought. i smile at it, and i know it doesn't notice. it doesn't have the capacity to.
i go out, for the first time in days, and buy a singular, overripe apricot. it is just barely in season. velvet fur, bruised slightly, small enough to be encompassed in a fist. i set it on my desk and leave it out. it is unbearable to me - the smell, the appearance, the thought. but in a few days, flies coalesce. in a few days, the flies have disappeared, and my friend the spider has a full web. he keeps me company and i keep him fed. he has turned into the centre of the universe for me, and i know he is not capable of even recognizing my existence, let alone how i am feeding him. i go outside, i feel the sun on my skin when i go to get him his fruit. it is like i am getting better.
i watch him with rapt attention, see how all eight of his appendages know just how and where to step, and wish i could do the same. his arms make, and i tear mine apart. he is so beautiful, in his creation. he is so beautiful, in his company. every time his web twitches with his steps, i beam with joy. every time the flies disappear to his web, i am content, i am fed. i don’t think i need to eat anymore. i'm elated.
one day, when i go out to get his fruit, he is not there when i return. he is not there the next day, or the one after that. i cry, i am ashamed to admit.i don't hold it against the spider - i cannot; i know it is not capable of the emotions i feel. it was just a spider. he left without saying goodbye. the corner of my room is empty again, and once more i am the only occupant. he was my friend. it was just a spider.