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"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly,
"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy"
--Mary Howitt
 A tiny bee, perhaps it is a wasp (I cannot really tell the difference, so let's just call it a bee) has been driving me crazy for a while now with its buzzing over my head. I was on my computer when this 'bee' buzzed annoyingly against my fluorescent light, attracted to it with such vigor and passion, that I noticed my unwelcome roommate - a long-legged, tiny-bodied, white-and-black-jointed spider - making its move towards the bee. Now I've been meaning to get rid of this spider ever since I moved in, but I just couldn't bring myself to. I don't know why.
Perhaps it was because of fear of what it was capable of doing if I ever tried to force-evict it (like jumping over my hair, or crawling ticklishly over my skin?), or maybe my lack of experience in catching dangerous-looking creatures led me to the decision to leave the spider alone, snuggled contentedly on its web by my room's low ceiling, situated close to my fluorescent light, cobwebs and all, since it has not done anything to inconvenience me so far.Now as the bee edged closer and closer to the trap that has long been waiting for it, the spider immediately lashed onto the bee with its long, spiny legs, spinning an invisible thread around the petrified bee, who by then ceased all its humming, and in a matter of seconds, the bee was bound by a silky thread, immobilized and still, held captive by its vigilant and unrelenting captor!
I don't know what spiders do as a hobby or occupation, but fascinated by what I saw as I sat on my chair watching all this unfold, I have observed that the spider had then held the bee's head against in own, its legs holding the bee tightly in place even though the bee was already bound and helpless, and I thought for moment that I heard minute crunching sounds which made me wonder if the spider had begun to feed. That was quite astonishing, for the bee was still alive! It writhed frantically beneath the spider in what I interpret as the insects' version of 'agony.' Not very long afterwards, the spider caught another tiny bug, and another, and another, and did the very same process all over again much to my viewing pleasure. I must say, the spider had quite a feast tonight!
As I write this, the spider is now quiet, legs stretched on its web, while its captives are all hanging against my ceiling, unmoving, and perhaps already happily dwelling in insect heaven. Because of what it has done this night, I grant the spider full pardon and use of that tiny space on my ceiling, and dub it 'Sir Spider' (or Lady Spider). If it weren't for this spider, I would have been desperately trying to shoo a bug which has the potential to sting me and keep me up all night, much to my inconvenience. Never mind if my ceiling is now a hanging graveyard of arachnid delights --- but tonight, I have found myself an ally! Peace has once again reigned over my tiny kingdom - my bedroom - and I owe it all to God's tiny (but astounding) creation!
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