Today, I was sitting by the window, eating my lunch. Just a few steps outside the window, I noticed a spider with thick, long legs, weaving its web right in front of the door to our porch. My eyes widened. “That’s not good,” I thought.
I stood up to grab a pen and piece of paper. “SPIDER IN FRONT OF PORCH DOOR” I wrote in large letters, just for Chad. I placed a piece of tape at the top of the note and stuck it to the garage door so Chad couldn’t miss it when he got home, and I wouldn’t forget to tell him.
When I sat back down in the chair, the spider had moved, but to where, I couldn’t tell. After searching for a few seconds, I spotted prickly legs a foot above where it had been. He was spinning his way toward the roofline. Up, up he glided until he just crossed over the white gutter.
Suddenly, a blur of flapping wings pounced on top of the spider and, just as quickly, disappeared. My eyes widened again.
Then, I laughed, an evil laugh, out loud.
THE END
