Well, One Life . . .

Up-close photo of spider web beaded with rain against a blurred background of green and blue.

"It's like the spiders are sharing an ancient secret with me."
— Cheryl Hayashi, spider biologist


Most days I fail to save anyone. Perpetual loss, pain, fearing. Nothing I can do to stop it for anyone, ultimately not even myself.

It’s October, and a spider has taken up residence in my bathtub. I see her sip at the drain, the delicate way she tries to climb the tub walls, sliding down, then managing a sideways crawl.

I collect her in a cup. Spider tea, I think, smiling, moving her outside to the last dahlia blossom, which I can’t stop from turning to mildew, to brown fragments.

She hangs on with her dazzling eight legs anyway.

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