I love the pointless metaphor. Reminds me of religion.
by David Halliday
The hair stood up on the back of Carl’s neck as they came up the driveway. There were two spiderwebs on the front porch. His gaze darted to the vibrating spiral of a third, in work, by the feverish, dancing dot of a little brown spider like the one that he shooed out of Jessie’s room the day before. 385 more words