Charlotte shuffled to the window and sat in her rocking chair. With her tea balanced on the window ledge beside the geranium, she watched her dress blowing in the wind.
By Wilbur White
Back and forth, back and forth, charlotte could hardly control the motion, the rhythmic swaying of the web that she had in fact spun for herself, of herself. Hah, she said, “Whatever will be, will be” almost like collaboration between the two, the spider and the pig. I can see it now, in lights, the great actresses, “Arachnid and the Angel.” That is Doris Day for you; that should be her next horror flick. That was her favorite genre, eh? The steady light quickly comes to rest without even stirring the Ohio Buck Eye from his sound slumber. White’s sure but steady pursuit and Charlotte’s steady drawl, surely just postpones the inevitable. The inevitable, despite Charlotte’s pleadings and ad quod damnum denials. Life and death are not such a dream, but reality. Man is often proven to be his worst enemy and there was no better an author than White to keep it all in check! Just the same, one can’t deny that life and death are relative, as they are also sometimes very beautiful, like the geranium in full bloom and the certain balancing act of the arachnid and Doris’ inevitable walk into the hall of fame.