Outside the bedroom window, it comes and goes. I glance up from the bed and find it absent. I’m relieved for the moment. The first time, I thought perhaps it had fallen and might not find its way back, or it had simply decided to move on. Then it came back, and I knew that I would have to put up with a fat, 2-inch spider in my window for a while.
It will be gone for days, sometimes, but then one day I’ll settle onto my bed and the obligatory spider-check will find that the menace has returned. From the window in the hall I can see it from the other side. I can see its web, attached to the outer wall of the building. This is, clearly, a prime spot for a spiderweb, and it seems rather doubtful that it will leave of its own accord. There is no indication that the spider wants to come inside – the second it does, I’m going on the offense-as-the-best-defense. So, for now, it’s no more than the potential for a problem. So, for now, I’ll just live with it.
With night falling, the spider’s silhouette becomes less and less visible, until I can’t see it at all anymore. I don’t know if it will be there in the morning, or if it will be gone, giving me a bit of space and peace.