a short story by Luc Salinger, English
As he opens the blinds of his apartment, the light catches itself in my threads, turning the whole web I have carefully constructed into a shimmering piece of art. I’ve worked so hard to make it as pretty as it can be and sometimes, on some lucky days, he looks up at it while it shines, and he smiles. Smiles at me!
My human. The one who keeps this whole place running. Honestly, he is way too good for this world. Only such a kind man would let a poor spider stay. He is not someone to see a spider and recoil in disgust. He is better than the others. He lets me stay and it feels like it goes beyond tolerance. He doesn’t want anything from me. Maybe just to keep the little critters at his place in check, judging by how he smiles when he sees that I’ve caught another fly in my web. Good job, he whispers then, as if I understand him. He is so adorable. And I’m happy to help in any way I can. I’d take on a thousand flies if it meant seeing that gorgeous smile over and over again.
Sometimes he calls me his “little buddy.” His! All the fluid courses faster through my body whenever he talks to me. I mean, can you imagine? Someone as warm and gentle as him, in this big, cold world, letting me be a part of his life? He could’ve squished me the first time he saw me skedaddle across the counter. But he didn’t. He just tilted his head, smiled like he’d found something precious, and said, hey, little buddy.
Buddy. From that moment onward, I realized something: to be seen not as a pest, a disgusting insect (I’m not!) or something to be feared, but as something worth noticing, worth talking to, made me feel, for the first time, like I truly exist.
And when he cooks his meals, the flat is filled with scents that can only be described as incredible. I don’t eat his stuff, since I have my flies to keep me full, but I love watching him stir his pot, his fluffy hair bopping up and down when he seasons his food. I often peek out of my corner completely mesmerized, and sometimes, he glances up at me as if to say, keeping an eye out for me?
Buddy, I’m keeping all of them out for you! His apartment is usually a bit dirty. His living room is often filled with cartons with bits of food inside and clothes and papers are scattered around. He normally doesn’t make an effort to clean. Who cares? I’m glad he doesn’t get out the feather duster and decimate my webs, and the place smells like him, absolutely lovely. I’m the luckiest spider ever. He doesn’t know how much he means to me. The outside world is much crueler than he could ever be. Here, in his cozy little place, I feel at home. I’m his little roomie.
I’m perched atop an old bookshelf, and I can hear the busy traffic outside. Today, he decided to clean his apartment. The room looks squeaky clean, and he even cleaned the windows. He left my web intact though. I’m in the middle of weaving up a lost fly that got stuck when I sense the door being flung open through my web. He is home again! I stop tending to the fly and wander over to the far end of my web to see my favorite human.
He isn’t alone.
Through the dim light of the lamp on the ceiling, I see him stumble into the living room, lips locked with a human girl, their bodies melded against each other. She laughs through the kisses they exchange, fingers curling in his fluffy hair. They are intense. It is unlike anything I’ve ever seen from him. I watch the whirlwind of passion sweep through the apartment with curiosity and… that’s it.
She hastily unbuckles his belt while he slides her shirt up. Clothes are strewn on the wooden floor and, as they both collapse on the couch naked, they are giggling, kissing, touching each other lovingly.
I linger at the edge of my web, looking at her. She is beautiful. Long flowing hair like silk. The way he looks at her, with intensity and lust, makes my insides throb a little. Obviously, he has never looked at me like that but… could he? Would he ever? I know that I’m just a spider but… I’m also his roomie.
They continue kissing. They press their bodies together, moaning into each other’s ears and the room becomes increasingly hotter. I feel … crushed. I love him, take care of the flies in his house, make sure nobody touches his food that he often leaves uncovered in the kitchen. And here he is, with another girl, offering something I could never dream of having.
As they continue, I retreat back to my web, curling up in its centre. I can still feel the vibrations of their movements, hear their whispers and soft moans. It is a reminder of the world beyond my little corner, a world I cannot be a part of. But, I remind myself, he is happy, and that is all I ever want for him.
A couple of hours later, the apartment grows quieter. The moonlight shimmers through the blinds and highlights his beautiful face while she, she is still there, her arm draped around his chest, sleeping on top of him. In her palm, the steady beating of his heart. I’ve never seen this girl before, yet she is this close to him. It just isn’t fair.
I move from my web, dangling from a silken thread that sends me lower and lower until I am on the ground. Crawling towards the couch, up the armrest, I am so close to him. His lips are slightly parted, and those beautiful eyes concealed by his shut eyelids. I walk up to him, climbing up his shoulder, up his neck, then reach out. Trembling. Gently nudging my leg against his cheek.
He is so warm and soft. My insides are coiling around themselves with pure bliss. I press myself closer, wrapping my legs around his face as much as I can. It is a weird sort of hug, but I don’t care how weird it is. It feels so right. For a moment, I shut my own eyes, and pretend he’s awake, hugging me back.
‘I love you,’ I murmur as I nestle myself more into his soft cheek. ‘I love you so much.’ I sigh and let myself drift off. This is the closest I’ll ever be to him, and I know that. And even this is a breach, but I let myself dream.
The steady rise and fall of him as he breathes in and out is like the gentle rocking of a cradle. The soft stubble on his face makes me feel tingly and the moment seems to stretch out forever.
I hear a stir. Rustling of fabric.
All of my eyes flash open. The moonlight of the room shines directly on me and my human. The human girl next to us retracts her arm from his chest. Her head lifts up from the couch. She is starting to wake up and, with each millisecond that passes, I feel dread washing over me. Like my body is pumping me full of fear. Please stay asleep, I beg silently. Let me have this moment.
Her eyes flutter open. Unfocussed eyes with a foggy, bleary gaze that wanders over to his face, slowly homing in on his features. I freeze. I can see her face change. From sleepy and happy to revulsion and disgust.
‘Ew, what the-?!’
She moves quickly. I try to scuttle back, but it’s too late. Her hand lifts.
I hug him tighter, desperately, hoping he will wake up, hoping he will stop her. Hoping that he will say something. My legs tremble, still clinging against his cheek. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to tell him how much I love him. I want to beg him to save me.
Her hand comes down.
My legs falter and my body breaks against him. His warmth presses in on all sides, crushing me into nothing. It hurts so much. I want to hold on, want to be with him.
But the pain swallows me whole, and everything falls apart.