Pillars of Salt Winter 2014

Webs It’s not yet ten in the evening when I step over the edge of the courtyard, and into the circle of paved stones, closed flowers, and shadows.

The umbrella, which is never closed, branches out across the rickety wooden table, uneven metal chairs, and the tilted rose bushes.

The houses around me are silent, quiet, sitting in the glowing darkness of a city that always teems with life and light.

I don’t notice it at first, the brush of the thin strand across my face, soft and sticky at the same time.

I continue towards my door, only stopping when I feel it again.

It’s like a stutter this time, the thread skittering across my forehead and nose before it breaks and rests on my cheek.

My fingers find the cobweb, the liquid lace of an arachnid, and brush it away.

It’s that time of year when all the spiders are out hunting, 34 Pillars of Salt