Sto­ries and po­ems by adults

Pasatiempo - - PASATIEMPO - by Michael Owens

MYwife dis­cov­ered a grass spi­der liv­ing in our kitchen.

It had built a dense web in an empty wine caddy sit­ting on the floor next to a tall cab­i­net. The spi­der sat half-in, half-out of a fun­nel-shaped hole in its web, pa­tiently wait­ing for the giants that were my wife and my­self to go away. Creep­ing out at night when we slept to for­age in the dark and quiet.

My wife de­manded that I kill the spi­der. I re­fused: the spi­der was harm­less to us, quiet and still in its fun­nel when we were about, tidy. As house­mates go, it was one of the best we could have had.

Still, she in­sisted that I do some­thing, so I caught the spi­der in a small pa­per cup, car­ried it out­side, re­leased it into a cor­ner of two stucco walls. I felt I owned it a place to make a home, given how much of the world we hu­mans have taken for our­selves. It was just try­ing to make a lit­tle home for it­self un­der the feet of the own­ers of the world.

*** It was not long af­ter that the moun­tains east of town rum­bled and cracked and fell away as two quar­ter-mile high giants rose on eight mas­sive legs from their eons-long sleep.

One swept most the town away like so much trash, a gi­gan­tic jum­ble of stone and metal and peo­ple, into a mon­strous pit that it opened in the earth.

The other, while the first was turned away, picked up our neigh­bor­hood and set it down by the river on the plains many miles west.

*** The spi­der was caught up with us, sit­ting in its new web spun in the cor­ner be­tween two walls. We have learned to live as it does: quiet, hid­den, pa­tiently wait­ing for the giants to go away. Try­ing to make a lit­tle home for our­selves un­der the feet of the true own­ers of the world.

Gigi Mills: Laun­dry With a Long-Legged Dog, 2017, gi­clée, cour­tesy GF Con­tem­po­rary

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from USA

© PressReader. All rights reserved.