Today as I sat at my desk at work, from under the old computer I use for extra functions, a spider came scurrying.

No, charging. That spider charged at me. Desperately. Suicidally, it turns out. I squished him like a…well, like a bug.

Then I felt bad. Why did he do it? What was he trying to protect, trying to prove? What was going through that little arachnid brain right before my reflex attack ended thought forever?

He was just a wee brown spider. Not a black widow, nor a tarantula. A harmless little spider I could have easily put outside had I thought before responding. Or, I could have easily missed, had he stayed hidden. I don’t use that part of my desk often. My desk is U-shaped, and I face that leg of the U for maybe fifteen minutes a day. Had he simply waited to make his escape, I would not have seen him. Had he not been charging straight at me, I would not have killed him.

So why did he do it? I’ll never know.

But I felt bad.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 24th, 2007 at 19:37 and is filed under Real Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.