Spider in a Cup

There was nothing more pleasing to her eyes than her cup. Embolden in its golden waves trickling across its white exterior like a white sea with hands gripping against shorelines bracing for the sun's teasing. Basil taking her cup to her area of the three meals from her kitchen peered into its bottom or so she supposed was said bottom. Yet what stared back into her blue eyes had them widen. Its four or so eyes froze back at her, as dark as its equally eight legs that sprawled itself out.

Basil became a leaf trembling beneath the mercy of two things, the light weight of her body and gravity pinning her to the ground as instantaneous as would a notification on her phone, her throat unleashed a scream that could've shattered all the windows in her home. Planting down her cup onto the wooden table enshrined onto its white wool coaster. It was like the entirety of her life flashes through her from her birth to the time she bought her clayware companion and now its inhabitant. Dissolving herself into laughter that would've barely trembled a feather she remarked to herself, "Isn't this a wonderful sight indeed, to be greeted by such a wonderfully terrifying guest!"

Placing the back of her hand over her forehead she mused on in her plight,

"M-maybe if i just-"

Turning the cup upside down, she set it back up a few seconds later, then redid the same thing. "No. No. Get. Out. Of. My. Cup!" With every word enunciated was a cup turned over or set back into its dignified position.
"Please!" Putting both her hands together, "It's my one and only!"
Setting into her dining room, it flitted with its strings of instruments. Whatever note that they are playing, it sure was to be one of tension. Noisily rushing air into her nose, she grabbed the cup, either it's an arachnid in its death curl or both it and a shattered cup.

"Crap," She repeated, "Crap," One. Two. Came its legs. Three. Four. Onto her fingers it went.
"Calm down, calm down," Yet her heart gave way. Whatever laid beneath her skin bursts its banks. Tingling, it crawled up her arm, "wait..."

Staring into its eyes, it was as if it shuddered too. Then came a twang of blue to her. How dare she even contemplate its death. Sauntering outside into her front yard, with her cup waiting inside. Flicking the spider off, it scampered off across the bricked floor, through the moss that burst through the gaps and whatever little beings held their hidden tea parties. Reeling herself back into her home, she returned to her cup. Pouring tea into her cup, wisps of steam arose in the air, perhaps there being an aftertaste of spider legs. A smile played on her face,

"Maybe spiders aren't too bad Afterall," Lifting her cup to her lips she gulped it down. Indeed, there was nothing more pleasing to the eyes than that Spider in a cup.