Spiders and Adverbs

I was carefully boiling water for coffee this morning when I lazily leaned forward over the back burner and accidentally hit my forehead on a dangling spider. I properly pulled back to notice the spider was tangled in his own web. Oh, what a tangled web we weave. I patiently wait for the pot of water to boil -- a watched pot still boils -- sometimes shifting attention to the spider that I seemed to have put into a disposition. His two front legs quickly fluttered for grip on the silky thread that connected him to the ceiling. The legs behind those moved precisely so the spider could maintain his balance. While the back two sets of legs rightly positioned on the silky thread where the spider had stopped when he met my forehead. My mind flashes to everything I know about the arachnid: spiders kindly kill other insects; spiders for the most part are harmless. Let him live. I promptly poured water into the French press and watched water turn black. I firmly pushed down on the press and checked on my friend. He wasn't where he was, but higher up the thread. He had gained grip and was rapidly moving up the the ceiling from which he came. A third of the way to the top, the spider stops and fixes the thread with a knot -- 31 knots? -- a sailor with a microscope would studiously look at. Back down a ways, the spider is doing the same thing. His grip is perfect, he's no longer tangled, clearly he's in control. I pour milk into my Circus Circus mug and then coffee on top of the milk. I then take a seat at the table and begin to read about the upcoming World Cup, about China's struggle with itself, and some crossword clues I have no clue the answers to. I wander back to my room and finish the book that I was almost finished reading and am now finished reading, Adverbs. I find myself using more (adverbs) more often, but still not in every sentence. I sort of straighten up my room and then clean my person with a combination of Irish Spring and Pert Plus, which isn't pertinent. I pack up my bag and put on coat, and bike off to school, where I have homework to do but do not, instead, I wrongly write about spiders. And worry about fixing the webs I've wondrously woven.

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