Streetlamp, Spider, Quilt
by Sparks In Shadow
Gazing at the streetlamp and the spiderweb again, in daylight, Val thought of Cass. She remembered him on the floor sewing together squares from old clothes, without straight pins, not looking up when she’d walk by.
“Damn, I’m good,” he’d say.
She’d stoop down to touch the fabric and his tiny stitches. “Damn.”
Tonight, under the quilt, she described the web and wondered why she never saw the spider.
“We’ll look for it sometime,” he said.
She whispered, “Okay,” turning her smile to the muscled flesh she liked at the front of his armpit, drifting as he kept her warm.