On the Spider

The spider descends from his web-in-progress, down from a two-piece light fixture on the ceiling of my basement. I have learned it over the past few days: how it moves, what it eats. It is terrifying, like a quick and concise nightmare that wastes no time creating a jump scare that leaves you shaking and sweating. The spider knows me as nothing more than a creature it cannot catch, yet I "know" it as a clear and present danger. The spider is often killed simply for being a spider, an attribute it cannot help. It is remarkable how easily we are able to stomp out an arachnid with no remorse. Perhaps even more remarkable is my aim with the Nerf gun that I use to take its life. We cannot share a room at any time. Not when he has that vantage point.