• Eyes glazed I stared at the small, elegant, black bug. Each of its long jointed legs moving perfectly in sync with each other, holding up the glistening fat body. The spider didn’t make a sound as it moved, oh so slowly, to its next resting place on the tree; and I, careful not to scare the creature, moved my hand steadily closer. After what seemed like an age, my fingers were close enough to grab the brittle leg. The second my finger closed around it, the poor thing began to thrash. But its beauty and elegance was no math for my brute strength. It almost seemed to scream in pain as I alighted it on the back of my other hand, one of the sleek legs twisted and bent in the wrong direction. It tickled my hand as it seemed to wail, writhing in pain. Soon enough though, it picked itself up, and scrambled lightly along my arm, making me giggle. Eventually I grew tired of the game and sat completely still as the frenzied spider calmed. Finally it stopped around the elbow of my bare arm. I picked it up again, this time gently. As I held it, I lowered it to the ground, oh so slowly. Then, when it was an inch away from the grass, I brought it up to my mouth and ate it.