Paola

The spider was yellowish black with stripes on barber pole legs. It couldn't get inside, I told Paola. It spun a beautiful iridescent web, reflecting the sunlight perfectly. With a plethora of food, two green aphids, a mosquito, a centipede, an ant, and some beetles. I removed the glass. They watched as I reassembled the windows. It was difficult balancing the heavy glass in the wet window tracks. The spider jumped on my nipple, I smashed my chest into the wall. Paola screamed, and the windows chopped my hands, like a guillotine. My hands are blue worms in hamburger.