There, silhouetted between the gossamer curtain and the window, i saw it: the perfect silhouette of a fat, healthy spider. the shape looked like a black widow (sort of)— stocky and fat enough. Well fed. I moved the curtain up a bit (though it was held top and bottom by rods attached to the windowsill of my back porch door) and he moved a bit in a jerky sort of way, the way spiders do. Just imperceptibly up. At the same time, I was removing my slipper (sheepskin, with the fleece starting to wear) ever so smoothly but with conviction… He was now clearly outlined between the pane and the curtain; nowhere to go. “Whap!” he didn’t seem hit. “Whap!” again, and this time, the light shone through the browns and blacks of his corrupted body; a stain on the white curtain. I carefully removed the top rod, then the bottom, freeing the curtain without letting the liquefied mass touch my clothing and put the two pieces of the curtain in a bucket with detergent and water to soak. The stain will come out; the fabric is nylon. Why am i such a murderer?