Spider’s Webs.

The web was strangled with intricate layers and multiplexed levels; one passage seemed to lead to the heart of another small geometric pattern in the spider’s slowly built masterpiece. She watched as the spiny creature spun a steady thread, like clockwork, in concentration; it extended and re layered the web in patient movements, but steady execution. One slip, one intrusion, one minuscule block in the plan and the invincible map would trigger a fleeting collapse; a devastating failure. In time, practice made easy application, but not entirely perfect results -

she remembered the first time a lie had so quietly risen from the darkness and slipped from her lips. It had felt uncomfortable, unplanned and unworn; it squeaked with every tentative footstep; still carried the scent of curious distance and new inhabitancy. But as lies grew in numbers, her web grew in size. She could construct a story in a minute; feign sincerity without thought; believers were her puppets - and puppets, there were many. What were once white lies had become dark, ominous creatures; possessing and obsessing, filling every corner, claiming conscious thought.

She looked up at the mass of web, and realised the spider within was more than consumed by the work - it was held prisoner in it’s own fabricated world. Trapped, she thought.

In all her work to maintain a disguise, she had never realised that the exit didn’t exist. That in order to escape, the web could only be destroyed; revealing the truth beneath.