Meeting

Today there was a gathering in the ceiling of my room. Spiders came out of dark corners, half-open drawers, from under the bed. A trail of saliva turned into shiny thread and as so many arachnids passed by, it weaved a huge web covering the walls.

The gait of each spider was so unbearable that I was shocked. The white of the ceiling was painted black because of the number of arachnids.

I paid attention to the murmuring that could be heard, I could understand what they were saying, complaining about the hard work they were doing!

-We have been weaving without a break since they asked us for the shroud, and we don't see when they will use it," said a leggy spider who I assumed to be the head of the guild.

-We were asked to weave without inoculating poison, otherwise our work would be ready for use, and that wasn't the point either; the time was supposed to come naturally soon," said a sleek, shiny black widow, who walked around wiggling her hourglass.

A strident blah, blah rose up, deafening because they were all talking at the same time. No one could agree. The meeting grew louder and louder with tempers flaring. No spider showed any sign of noticing that a dull, rushing tum, tum began to be heard muffled, slowly slowing to a stop. An enormous silence remained. Something was perceived by those gathered there because the murmuring ceased.

The four pairs of eyes of each one, multiplied by thousands, turned towards my bed. I tried to get up, but could not. The hissing voice of the kicking spider let itself be heard.

- The man is dead!