Insect Politics

While sweeping my basement floor, that’s when I noticed him. He was green and black, and a little creepy. I do believe he had only one thing on his mind: pounce, bite, spit, and run.

Fortunately, because of the winter weather outside, he was alone. If it was in the summer months, I’m sure there would be hundreds of them. Most of my basement spiders either perished, or went into hiding in the winter. I guess this one decided to ride out the cold weather in the small baseboard crack he had found. But now I was faced with a dilemma: to kill or not to kill.

The more I looked at him, I knew what the answer had to be. It was either him or me. So, without hesitation, I grabbed my secret weapon. Cautiously approaching him, he actually made a lunge for me. So, with trusty bug spray in hand, I took aim and coated him in a thick white foam. He wrenched for about one minute, and then he was still. Then I realized something: I had pity on this tiny defenseless insect. Was he not one of God’s creatures too? Did he not have a purpose?

Picking up a magnifying glass, I slowly knelt down beside him. His eyes were enormous and black, and it frightened me. So much so, I gasped and jumped back. If insects could think, I thought to myself, what was he saying to me? Was he still alive behind those eyes? Was I his last glimpse of life? Me, the one and only one, who nonchalantly took a can full of poison and did him in. Did he want me to try and save him somehow, or go for my throat the first chance he got?

Whatever thoughts he may have been thinking, that is, if insects could even think at all, I had to admire his tenacious qualities. He was willing to put up a good fight for his survival.

I noticed he had a mightiness about him. I’m sure in the insect realm, he was a royal one of sorts. Perhaps he was a proficient fly hunter, that fed his family well. Or spun a web that had the strength and beauty of a fine work of art. I will never know those things about him, now that he is in a state of dead stillness.

When the winter months have ended, and the summer season comes, I know I will think of him on my visits to the basement. And who knows, maybe another green and black spider will make its startling appearance to teach me a lesson about insect politics. The politics being: for every one you see, there are probably a thousand more.


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