I had a dream last night that I was walking through a forest and a small spider approached me. Normally I’m quite wary of spiders but this one was no larger than the tip of my pinky so I ignored it and continued on. I did not see it stop and gaze at me in awe.
As I progressed through the forest I began to notice larger spiders, and feeling that sickly, tickly feeling begin to crawl up my spine I opted to turn back. It was then I noticed that while the path before me was clear the path behind was not. I was being followed.
A thousand little spiders stood in the footsteps I had trod and as I began to panic I watched them stop and stare and make a little bow.
I watched bewildered as a larger one (perhaps the size of my fist) emerged from the undergrowth and took a knee (if one could say spiders truly have knees) before me. Rising it pointed with a single outstretched spindly leg that I should continue on down the path.
Having no particular taste for spiders my inclination was to decline and perhaps run screaming to the hills as more - and larger - spiders began to make themselves known in the wood, each bowing to me and following at a respectful distance.
When the forest became dark and the inkling of worry had become full tilt panic I began to notice the forest walls were white with webs - although these were not the kinds of webs I had expected.
Soft, gossamer, lace-like curtains swayed in the trees as though pearl white banners were waving me through. The ground too became soft as I walked and looking down a snowy carpet of silk was laid out before me.
When at last I approached a wide glen the largest spider by far was waiting. As large as a bison, with legs as tall as horses it bowed reverently and slowly shuffled back to reveal a throne of silver and white.
“I have spun this for you my lady” it spoke in a soft tone and though I was overwhelmed with the desire to run blindly, screaming in hysterics, throw up and cry a niggling of curiosity was present also; and so at the urging of the spider procession behind me I stepped forward into the silky woodland bower and beheld my surroundings.
The webs here were as cohesive as cloth and draped the forest walls like a decaying wedding tent, their loose weave sprinkling the moonlight around me like pouring water through cheesecloth. The throne itself was carved of wood and draped in thicker webs that looked as blankets against the cool and drafty forest.
“What is this” I asked without asking, my eyes pleading with the eight-legged behemoth to let me simply faint.
“It is for you Majesty. All of it is for you. A Queen should have a throne should she not?”
It was then I woke; and as I lay awake in the darkness, thinking of all the dark places in the world and all the creeping creatures that feast on blood and fill me with shivers and dread I wondered: Would they still terrify me if they adored me?
Would I still cower and cry in their presence if their presence was to do my will? I could not think of an answer that suited me for in each passing second I lived a million lives each different and in each had a different answer.
I would be their queen one day, and conquer the planet - the next perhaps I would simply live my life in quiet denial, or befriend each and every one and in their adoration find them beautiful, or let the fear consume me until I hated my subjects with a more vicious ferocity than any mad dictator in history.
I do not know. But it gave me pause to think of all the things I fear and hate and wonder what I would say if they thought well of me.
blakekathryn
stormborns
baratheonpilled
turnnoffyourmind
ellievsbear