Where The Spiders Dwell
By Andy Morris
Last night Gabriella dreamt she heard the spiders talking. Their tiny silvery voices whispered back and forth from their dusty corners behind furniture and inside the walls. One of the spiders was now watching her from the dressing table as she hurriedly got ready for work. As she spied the small visitor, her half-remembered dream resurfaced causing her to reflect momentarily on its spellbinding details.
Her dream had revealed to her the secret nature of spiders. You don’t always see them but they are always there; silent and patient. Nothing is hidden from them for all is seen and heard and studied. The spiders know our secrets and our desires, our flaws and our fears. Occasionally they come to us as we sleep and breathe words of hope and comfort during times of distress. But they are mostly mischievous creatures, descending on their silky webs at night to whisper doubts into the ears of lovers or sow discord among friends, before once more returning to the dark places where they dwell.
Throughout the human world, always just out of sight, are the doorways to their dark places. These entrances are hidden to those whom the spiders do not welcome. For concealed in the labyrinth of their delicate ethereal tapestry, the spiders tirelessly practice their sacred arts of manipulation. They move unnoticed, drawing together the countless threads of humanity and weave a destiny for a billion people who have no idea they are ensnared in the spider’s cosmic web.
People say you are never more than ten feet from a spider at any one time. This truism tumbled through Gabriella’s mind as she regarded the nasty little bugger that had been hiding behind her make-up bag. At first, she thought it may be dead but, recalling her dream, she knew of the devious nature of the spider. Gabriella had disturbed its ever-present surveillance and now it could not move lest it drew further unwanted attention to itself. She could almost hear its low controlled breathing, like a sprinter listening for the starting gun as it waited for her to turn her back. The master of deception, the moment her eyes left it, it would scuttle away unseen and resume its silent vigil of her.
Gabriella reached for a tissue to pick up the spider and kill it. As she did so she put her hand through a fusty leaf of warm cobwebs that she hadn’t noticed earlier. Snatching back her hand she wiped it vigorously on her leg. But it was already too late.
Gabriella felt the soft trace of hair-thin fibres settle over her forehead and instinctively rubbed her face in disgust. While just out of sight, on the periphery of her vision something darted over her feet. The sunlight briefly flashed on the delicate strand of silver that spiralled around her ankles. She tried to step back but it was difficult as if she were standing on her shoelace. Another small shape flitted over her head. Another feathery caress touched the back of her hand. More cobwebs settled. Impelled by an electric revulsion Gabriella reached out and slapped the small spider on the dressing table with the palm of her hand, squashing it with a satisfying squelch as if he were the only one spinning these webs. Fortunately for Gabriella, she did not look upwards to see the bristling nest of black spiders now boiling over the ceiling towards her.
A soft grey haze had descended over her vision. Her arms felt so sticky she couldn’t lift them to wipe the scarf of gossamers now covering her eyes. The more she struggled the more immobile she became. Desperately helpless, Gabriella could barely move in the tense spidery lace.
More fast-moving shapes scuttled around her evoking the final thread of her strange dream: Deeply secretive and insular, spiders will go to extraordinary lengths to protect their secrets from accidental eavesdroppers. Gabriella considered this as she was helplessly dragged away, into the dark places where the spiders dwell.
Her dream had revealed to her the secret nature of spiders. You don’t always see them but they are always there; silent and patient. Nothing is hidden from them for all is seen and heard and studied. The spiders know our secrets and our desires, our flaws and our fears. Occasionally they come to us as we sleep and breathe words of hope and comfort during times of distress. But they are mostly mischievous creatures, descending on their silky webs at night to whisper doubts into the ears of lovers or sow discord among friends, before once more returning to the dark places where they dwell.
Throughout the human world, always just out of sight, are the doorways to their dark places. These entrances are hidden to those whom the spiders do not welcome. For concealed in the labyrinth of their delicate ethereal tapestry, the spiders tirelessly practice their sacred arts of manipulation. They move unnoticed, drawing together the countless threads of humanity and weave a destiny for a billion people who have no idea they are ensnared in the spider’s cosmic web.
People say you are never more than ten feet from a spider at any one time. This truism tumbled through Gabriella’s mind as she regarded the nasty little bugger that had been hiding behind her make-up bag. At first, she thought it may be dead but, recalling her dream, she knew of the devious nature of the spider. Gabriella had disturbed its ever-present surveillance and now it could not move lest it drew further unwanted attention to itself. She could almost hear its low controlled breathing, like a sprinter listening for the starting gun as it waited for her to turn her back. The master of deception, the moment her eyes left it, it would scuttle away unseen and resume its silent vigil of her.
Gabriella reached for a tissue to pick up the spider and kill it. As she did so she put her hand through a fusty leaf of warm cobwebs that she hadn’t noticed earlier. Snatching back her hand she wiped it vigorously on her leg. But it was already too late.
Gabriella felt the soft trace of hair-thin fibres settle over her forehead and instinctively rubbed her face in disgust. While just out of sight, on the periphery of her vision something darted over her feet. The sunlight briefly flashed on the delicate strand of silver that spiralled around her ankles. She tried to step back but it was difficult as if she were standing on her shoelace. Another small shape flitted over her head. Another feathery caress touched the back of her hand. More cobwebs settled. Impelled by an electric revulsion Gabriella reached out and slapped the small spider on the dressing table with the palm of her hand, squashing it with a satisfying squelch as if he were the only one spinning these webs. Fortunately for Gabriella, she did not look upwards to see the bristling nest of black spiders now boiling over the ceiling towards her.
A soft grey haze had descended over her vision. Her arms felt so sticky she couldn’t lift them to wipe the scarf of gossamers now covering her eyes. The more she struggled the more immobile she became. Desperately helpless, Gabriella could barely move in the tense spidery lace.
More fast-moving shapes scuttled around her evoking the final thread of her strange dream: Deeply secretive and insular, spiders will go to extraordinary lengths to protect their secrets from accidental eavesdroppers. Gabriella considered this as she was helplessly dragged away, into the dark places where the spiders dwell.