The Weaver

The day was young, with gleaming sunlight playing across a field. Nearby was a copse of hardwood trees. As she walked closer, there were tall wildflowers with abundant colors. Approaching the wooded area, the sunlight suddenly shifted, as if on a swivel.

What she saw as a result of the changing light made her catch her breath. There, directly in front of her were hundreds and thousands of spider webs, now fully revealed in the morning sun. The longer she looked, the more webs there were. It was a remarkable display of architecture and effort. The webs were constructed in such a way that it would be impossible to pass through the area without being caught up in them.

What had created such an intricate, deadly construct?

Her steps stopped, and she began to carefully scrutinize the shadowed areas beneath the maple leaves and pine boughs. A furtive movement caught her eye. Tucked in the relative safety of the trees was a type of garden spider that was enormous. In addition to its abnormal size, it had human arms and a woman’s face. The sight was horrifying. The spider locked eyes with her and understood it had been seen.

In a frenzy of activity, it began to spin in concentric circles – faster and faster, until the spider was a blur. Web upon web erupted from the spider’s body, until the silver strands engulfed the now immobile spider. Caught in its own devices, the spider was now a victim of its own snare.

She opened her eyes to the comfort of her bedroom, realizing with relief that it was just a dream…or was it?