There is the story of a spider who sat next to a little girl and scared her.

There is the story of a spider who spend most of the cold winter months hanging on the ceiling of my bedroom. We didn’t scare each other, we lived alongside each other. And when early spring came he stung me in the right ankle, run out of the window never to be seen again. How is that for gratitude??

There is a story of a spider who kept being in the wrong place at the wrong time,

Sometimes people were kind enough to avoid the spider and stepped around it.

Sometimes, they picked it up to move it out of harm’s way.

Sometimes people just step on it.

And next day another spider would be at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Scaring himself to death by looking into a pocket mirror fallen out of somebody’s pocket.