Ignored by all, feared by most, the little creature quietly goes about its own business. Living in a world of its own, it sees miles where we see centimeters. Walking across the urban jungles of our homes it searches for its prey. Lost in a world of someone else’s design, caught in someone else’s web, the little spider is helpless.
It is simply a misunderstood soul. Only seen for its predatory appetite, the difficult existence of the poor spider is often ignored. It wanders trying to find solace, an escape into the realm of nature beyond where it belongs. It beckons us to show it the way with its eight beady eyes pleadingly staring at us and is rewarded with screams and panic. *Whack* the confused spider is startled by our sudden aggressive reaction. *Whack* but it isn’t stupid. It realizes the role reversal here, the whirlwind in which the predator becomes the prey. And so it flees finding a corner to cloak itself from further harm.
Its stomach rumbles but not for what’s in your fridge. It has no use for your otherworldly artifacts. Yet it yearns for the comforts of its own world. The spider thinks maybe you’ll be more cooperative if it helps you out. So it goes and finds those pesky flies and bees that you’re always complaining about. It’s time to get to work. With artisanal beauty it spins its own delicate web. Laboring over it for hours in an attempt to set the perfect trap, it looks down at its creation with pride. Trapping them in its web, it kills the lowly insects with ruthless conviction. Maybe now the humans will show it some kindness.
But no, nothing has changed. Its gift is ignored. No one comes and shows it the way. It is then that the little spider realizes that it must make its own way. Pleasing others to get its way will simply not do. And so the little arachnid races through the tiled bathrooms and wooden living rooms on its eight legs to find the way back to the greenery it calls home. What’s that? An opening? A window? But it lies at the top of an enormous tower. The spider steels itself and begins. Motivated by the thought of frolicking in the grass it climbs. Then as it reaches the midway point, the human appears. It knows that getting out now is a matter of life and death. It demonstrates remarkable agility as it dodges every shoe, every newspaper that the human throws its way. It is too close now and it won’t just give up. It fails to understand what it has done to invoke such undying hatred from our side. Like a hitchhiker you meet along the road, all it wanted was a little direction. With one final leap it crosses over finally escaping the concrete maze.
As it crosses through the greenery, it seems to calm down. There isn’t anyone to aggravate it now. It can live without fear. Once again it becomes dominant. It strides across the grassy lawn with pride. Order is restored and the little spider is where it needs to be. No qualms now, it can be what it was meant to be. It is where it belongs.