WEBS OF FATE

I thought he was dead; he really looked it.

He appeared as if life had abandoned him long before I arrived in the corner of his room. Stained with vomit and reeking of urine, he did not resemble a living person. I couldn’t be sure. Humans did not interest me that much. For most of my life, I tried to avoid them.

Three days had passed since I settled in the room's corner and spun my web. I enjoyed being the sole spider in that space, so I made it my own, my piece of paradise.

I didn't notice him at first. My eyesight isn't as sharp as it once was; many years have passed. Time has left its mark on both of us—me and him.

I thought he was dead, but he wasn't. He moved his leg. That's how I knew he was there, present, and alive.

Curiosity overwhelmed me, though it wasn't characteristic of me. Perhaps with age, I've become less cautious. After all, he didn't sense my presence. How could he, lying in his own bed, vomit in the dimness of the room? Who am I to him that he would notice me?

The only light filtered through a bare window without a curtain, casting a magical scene of moonlight, disturbed only by his motionless figure on the filthy mattress. At least he didn't sleep on the dirty floor.

Curiosity plagued me during those three days. After breakfasting on two fat flies that generously flew into my web, I began examining him more closely. Even as a small spider, I've always been fascinated by the human world, often getting into trouble because of it.

Three days ago, I found myself in this unusual room, nestled in a corner, hidden from view. It was a sanctuary of shadows and secrets, a place where I could weave my webs undisturbed. Little did I know that my solitude would soon be interrupted by an inquisitive resident.

He appeared, filling the room with an air of mystery. The man lay as if he had always been there, his limbs contorted at unnatural angles, his body shrouded in darkness. At first glance, he seemed lifeless, just a shell lying on the floor.

But as I observed with keen interest, I noticed subtle signs of life in him. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, barely perceptible to the naked eye. Despite the appearance of death, a glimpse of life remained in him. I did not notice him before. Was he there when I spread my web in the corner? Did he observe me, watching my every move? I don’t know.

The man's clothes were tattered and soiled, covered in dirt and grime. Strange creatures writhed within the folds of fabric, tiny shapes squirming in the darkness. It was a sight both fascinating and repulsive, a testament to a man's journey through despair.

I watched him with a mix of curiosity and concern, wondering what had led him to such desolation. What secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of his troubled mind? What trials had brought him to lie alone in this abandoned room?

As the hours turned into days, I found myself drawn to his side, unable to look away from his unusual form. Despite my natural aversion to humans, there was something about him that intrigued me—a mystery begging to be solved.

And so I remained with him, a silent companion in his solitude, my mind filled with questions that may never be answered. Because in the intricate web of fate, even the most unlikely creatures find themselves bound together by threads beyond their control.

With courage somehow found in me, I used my skills as a spider to approach the man. I wasn’t afraid of him. Why should I be? Judging by his condition, there wasn’t much he could do for me. So, I started to use my thread to slide down from the ceiling.

As I approached his face, my curiosity got the better of me, and the delicate thread I clung to began to strain under my weight. With a sudden crash, it gave way, and I plummeted, landing squarely on the man's face.

In an instant, I felt a dull thump as his hand swatted at me, a reflexive response to my unexpected intrusion. Pain shot through my tiny body as I struggled to free myself from his grip, my movements frantic and desperate. His hand threw me away from his face onto the floor. I felt hurt, yet I was still able to move.

But before I could escape, another blow came, this time from his leg crashing down on me. I felt a great weight bearing down, squeezing the life out of my frail form. How did his leg find me on the floor? Did he get up and chase me? But he looked almost dead.

Gasping for breath, I fought against the encroaching darkness, my legs flailing in a futile attempt to break free. But the man's step was relentless, and his movements were swift and determined. It was as if he waited for me to appear to squash me.

And as the world began to fade around me, I felt a sense of resignation wash over me, a quiet acceptance of my fate. In the end, even the most curious of creatures must face the consequences of their actions, however unintentional.

As my strength waned and my vision dimmed, I cast one last glance toward the open window, where the moon hung in the night sky, a lone beacon in the darkness. It looked so peaceful and magical, as if it comforted me, telling me that it was all right. I didn’t have to be afraid.

In that fleeting moment, as the cold glow of the moon illuminated me, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet acceptance of my fate. Though my journey was cut short, I found solace in the beauty of the outside world, a realm filled with wonders beyond my wildest imaginings.

And as darkness enveloped me, I whispered a soft farewell to the moon above, a silent acknowledgment of the beauty that still existed in the world, even in the face of adversity.