She was almost out the door before you talked her down. The scheduling problems were at fault for the delay because when you said you took care of tarantulas in your home she wanted to see immediately. You saved as much as you could for emergencies, but the idea of her thinking you were using spiders for labor and you profiting off of it became a worry.Ī few weeks passed before she came home with you. Maybe someday, but for all purposes you took good care of your babies and lived modestly. You didn't have the heart to tell her the whole truth. She loved it, perhaps assuming spiders got money for their work. The idea that surface spiders were in movies blew her mind. “I manage acting spiders, I help human actors perform with them and stuff like that.” When she asked what you did for a living you laughed and tried to be casual, she could either like what you do or hate you instantly. She had two shops and had recently opened in the location you found her at. She baked to raise money and support herself since coming to the surface and her goods were fairly popular with monster expat and humans alike. Her name was Muffet and she was a fairly powerful monster that wanted to make life better for spiders. You didn’t know it then but she thought you were cute too. “Spiders are a girls best friend after all.” You quip, trying to be coy. That would be wrong, keep yourself together. You wanted to pick her up and take her home. You easily had two feet on her, even more in your heels. “You smell like spiders, how curious~Ahuhuhu~ ” She was quick, two powerful legs closed the gap between you before you blinked twice. She quickly skitters from behind the counter and towards you. Five eyes and no sclera made it hard to figure it out. She was watching you, you think, its a little hard to tell where her object of focus was. She was clearly one of those monsters that had come to the surface. You felt warm but you hoped your poker face was working. Well, in human terms, for a spider she was huge. She was a spider and you slapped yourself in the face. She was only about three or so feet tall, wearing white cloths for baking in. You only noticed because the separation curtain from the kitchen and back was moved. They must have been waiting for you to leave but when you didn’t (distracted trying to identify the spider species’ running around) she walked out.
You hear faint banging noises and some girlish laughter. “Sorry we aren’t open just yet~” It was a sweet sounding voice but sounded slightly sultry and wispy. You gasp and see the spiders crawling around the unlit chandeliers, leaving webs around. Silver and white break up the interior design and it looks like a gothic Victorian tea party.Ī habit you never break made you look up. Flowers and bows decorate the back of the chairs and in vases on the tables. Blood red lace table cloths over black, with matching black chair covers. It was unlocked, so you assume it was alright. Sure you should be on your way to work but you were always early. Your eyes drift to the front door, you pocket the phone and pick up your bag. Some internet addicted friends instantly commented on the pictures, texting back or liking the pictures. You texted them to a few friends and slapped them up online. The bakery name was in the pictures and you snapped one of you in front of the window. You dropped your bag and got a semi blurry picture of the sign, then one of the window decorated in a similar way. Baby boomers everywhere may roll their eyes but your instincts have yet to let you down. A simple life hack that has yet to let you down, since everything will always match. Your outfit matched perfectly, an accident predestined considering all your accessories were silver and about 99% of your wardrobe was chic black. The sign was oozing with spider aesthetics with a dash of red roses and elegant penmanship that looked hand painted. You had to laugh a little, of all the things you could have found taking a new route to work it had to be a bakery. So it was in time no surprise that you stopped in front of the bakery.īecause, as is the way of things. You liked them back, respecting their natures and temperament. Yes, it would seem spiders, with their multitude of limbs and eyes just liked you. When you got your third your family was worried but when you started working in movies as a handler they worried a little less. It was no surprise when you got your first tarantula.
At least people thought you were easy to shop for and you simply enjoyed it. Your birthday gifts were books on arachnids or jewelry of webs. Whenever a spider crawled in your shower, you rescued it from a watery death. Whenever someone yelled in fear over a spider, you where there cooing to the tiny thing. Without thought or much effort you earned the nickname and barely blinked twice about it. You could say there was a bigger destiny for you, evident from the time you were young.
0 kommentar(er)
