Two more left turns until I get home. I always notice the little things on my way back to the house. This time there was a spider no larger than a few centimeters on the window. It was very slow and did not move much. I'm no expert on the life cycles of spiders, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was old and dying.
One more left turn until I get home. The spider started to move, though very slowly, up the window. Its journey appeared to be quite arduous despite the distance being no more than a few inches. The soft rain beating against the glass added to the suspense of its travel, almost echoing the beating of my chest. With every step it took, it became slower and began to shake.
One more block until I get home. The spider's walking slowed to a crawl and two of its legs had detached themselves from the glass. I suppose my intuition was correct this time. One can only wonder if the spider was able to live its best life. As we pulled up to the curb of the house, the spider fell off the glass and on to the seat next to me. It lay there, dead, having failed its task.
As I got out of the cab, I made sure to leave a nice tip for the driver and approached the house. I reached into my pocket and took out my keys. There were so many that even after all this time, it is still difficult to find the right one quickly. When I reached the door and could hear the inside, I realized that this time, the screaming had started without me.
