The Spider

I missed them at first when they decided to skip town. From the children’s afternoon meltdowns to the adults’ late night laughter, even the rumble of the washing machine and the slamming of the front door. It all felt… well, it felt quite weird. And what with the windows firmly closed and the streets seemingly empty, I hardly even heard an engine start from my hideout indoors. More importantly, I missed the sounds of nature: you know, the drone of bluebottles, flies and bees – in fact I missed those critters, full stop. I guess you can call them my afternoon tea.

But then I realised that what had felt like entrapment for my family was the exact opposite for me. Without them I was now free. I ran all around their bedrooms, swinging giddily from the lights. I danced upon the kitchen counters, climbing up the walls. I diligently decorated the bathroom with my intricate designs. And I made the place MY home. More than that I kept the place immaculately clean and free of squatters. If anything I’ve more than earned my keep….

But now they’re home, and they’ve immediately done away with my personal touches. Screaming when they saw me, and not with delight. So now I listen out for those noises - the ones I had missed – as a heads up to hide.

Still, I’ll keep doing what I do – keeping the place tidy and pest-free. If only I could get rid of the cat.