There was a spider on the windshield. It didn’t move. The mid-November rain stopped 20 minutes ago and I’d forgotten to turn the windshield wipers off, or at least had forgotten to put them on the lowest setting. The wipers were going full speed and making weird dry-rub noises against the windshield, but to the spider they must’ve seemed like they were on a full-blown, vengeful, arachnophobic attack. The spider still didn’t move but it was able to dodge the wipers as if it were a stuntman in a James Bond film lying flat under a passing truck during a fight scene. I finally turned the wipers off after 10 seconds of crudely wondering how the spider would navigate this situation. It didn’t navigate at all. The moment the wipers were turned off, the spider decided to turn on its 8 legs and started moving towards the top of the windshield. The amount of real estate it had to cover given its size and depth would be the equivalent of a football player running 100 yards, end zone to end zone. Maybe this spider was Jerry Rice, or maybe it was just a spider. These are the thoughts that run through my mind when the weather seems to be even more Bipolar than my doctor claims me to be.
It’s cloudy and rainy for 10 minutes and then all of a sudden, sunny and bright. Driving along the bridge, I noticed the sunshine was beginning to cover up and the clouds were making their way back to the rain-filled sky. I drove through the exact spot where sunshine morphed into thunderstorms; it was like a portal, a time warp into a meek existence. I was driving through sludge, rain and a thundery environment but looked back into my mirror and saw sunshine, bright radiation, and nostalgic memories. I was lonely. I’ve been lonely for 5 years now. And now the spider left me. He was nowhere to be seen. He might’ve traveled over the windshield and may have been resting on the hood of the Dodge Durango I was renting. But, that didn’t do me any good. I needed to see the spider. I decided not to move. I’m pulling the same trick the spider pulled and am refusing to let this spider escape from my life. “He’ll come back,” I’m thinking. He didn’t, but at least he was there at one point. Time tends to be ruthless. It does not stop for anyone; in fact, it is an illusion and does not exist. All that exists is motion. The spider was in my life one moment, and then moved on out. My family used to be in my life, but then I moved on out. I was their spider. Now I’m stuck in traffic on a bridge, with thunderstorms reminding me of life’s vivacity while rain is pouring down on the hood of this rented Dodge Durango. I’m considering making a sharp right turn. Much like the Durango though, I dodged death.
“I’ll give it another shot,” I said to myself. “It looks to be sunny just a mile ahead.”
you are one talented writer!