Spiderwebs

I watch a spider spin beneath the veranda eaves. With care, it weaves the foundation from which its web will spread. Unfazed by the dust that swirls around us and stains everything red, the spider continues. Two years ago, I swore I’d never return to this town at the arse-end-of-nowhere. Now, the dry wind blows that distant vow back in my face. I’m sitting on the veranda in the same rickety rocking chair where my mum nursed me. The woman has gone. The chair remains.

Strand upon strand, the spider’s web grows while I wait. So many layers that even if you manage to slip through one, you’re still trapped fast. I wonder if the spider considers its prey, or the turmoil it leaves behind.

The web covers the entire corner of the veranda in silver now, and the spider has retreated from sight. In my pocket I can feel my sister’s letter crumpled and balled. There’s no need to reread, I know each word from the long bus ride here.

A dragonfly hovers. First near my knee, then higher. Wings drone like radio static as it investigates the web in the eaves. The late afternoon sun makes rainbows dance along its wings, and then it is caught. The web shakes with its struggles, but the spider has cast its net well. With each desperate lurch the dragonfly becomes further trapped, loses a little more fight. Soon, the rainbow disappears and the dragonfly surrenders to its fate. The spider appears and I watch it creep forward, certain that no one will intervene.

Out on the red dirt road, a rusty pickup slows. It pulls into the drive, and I can hear the tappets screaming for oil. My sister’s ginger hair fills the cab, visible even through the scum smearing the windscreen. I drag my knife from its sheath. It isn’t until they reach the veranda that my stepdad finally sees me. He drops my sister’s hand.

Ryan Stone

First published at Flash Fiction Magazine , December 2019

Dying Light

From my porch
I watch thunderheads
battering high noon
into bruised twilight.
I see you climb
from under eaves,
awakened
by a pressure change.
As the storm inhales
you leap and spin,
leap and spin
your web — knowing
your time to build
is fleeting.

Ryan Stone

** Featured Poet **

This month’s featured poet on Days of Stone is Yusra Gulab Jamman. I visit Yusra’s blog often for the sheer happiness and feeling of effervescence it bestows. Yusra is bursting with life and energy and her blog captures this feeling so well. She is also a very talented poet with her own unique voice and stylings. Much of Yusra’s poetry is vibrant and alive; rich in colour and often written from an unusual viewpoint that adds to its freshness and appeal.

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Conversation with a Spider

In the shadow of my hand,
you
scuttle, scuttle,
                                        slip –
on tiles too smooth
for your too-long limbs,

Each leg splayed slender
as a brush of wheat
beneath
the reaper’s
scythe.

-> Read the full poem and Yusra’s bio here: Featured Poet-Yusra Gulab Jamman