Venom Chic

arachnid

Susannah opened the curtains, the moon was bright and illuminating the room in a soft glow. She had liked the way Tandy had positioned the bed, angled to face the large double windows so the sky was always visible. They used to make love and lie naked, staring up through the open window. He taught her about the phases of the moon, she knew tonight was `waxing gibbous` and in a few days it would be full.

   The clouds were moving slowly, the drifting forms like lace in the breeze, she knew the longer she looked the closer the moon would appear and she would see the shapes and shadows.

   `Look for the man in the moon`, Tandy used to say, she missed those days, when she had fallen in love, not with the designer but with the man who could see beauty in simple things. He had taught her poetry, he used to whisper the words and make her whisper them in return. She now knew Keats:

  `tender is the night, and haply the Queen moon is on her throne, cluster`d around by all her starry fays`, she mouthed to herself, smiling, the moon was getting closer, she looked for the eye, the curve of cheek bone, where were the lips?

   She was being seduced by the beauty of the sky, ignoring her surroundings, even the shadow cast behind her on the white wall. It had paused, the only movement were two legs twitching as if sensing the presence in the room. Then it began to move, its eight legs in unison, there was no sound and if Susannah had noticed she would have seen something graceful in its movement.

   The shadow disappeared as it manoeuvred down onto the floor towards the bed.