Last week I shared with you a story from my true crime archives about an uninvited guest at tea time. If you missed it and want to catch up here it is: Along Came A Spider. It occurred to me that there’s always two sides to every story and I feel I owe it to dear Boris to give him the last word. Turns out Boris is rather long winded so I’ve broken up his tale into pieces that I will share through out the week. I hope you like it!
No One Will Find Me Here
Some thought he was odd. Others thought he was kind of cute. Boris thought of himself as an artist weaving tapestries with his legs. Insects, especially dopey flies were drawn to the elaborate mesmerizing beauty of his webs. Ultimately they found themselves suddenly stunned, immobile, and all at once enveloped in a snug, sticky sleeping bag from which they would never awake. His artwork, a warm safe place to nod off, and a regular dose of punk rock were all he needed to feel satisfied with life on the other side of the cupboard.
Until one day…
It was an ordinary evening the cupboard was quiet. After meeting a fly for dinner, Boris began spinning a new creation. The sound of weary footsteps approaches and the cupboard door swings open. Boris scurries into the nearest dark corner for protection. From what?
****to be continued****