An Eensy Weensy Story

Thanks to all of you who read and commented on my first page of April Magic. It's on hold for now, while I try to figure out where I want the story to go. In the meantime I wrote a short little children's story, for fun. I haven't decided if it's just a good writing exercise, or something I want to refine and maybe send to a children's publisher, but I thought I'd at least post it here, and see if any of you like it! No title yet. If anyone has any cute suggestions for one, let me know!


He cast his many eyes up the dark tunnel that was his personal mountain to overcome. Reaching the end of that vertical tube of metal would open a world of opportunities to him. Food, glory, honor. He has no name, because spiders don't have names. They do however, have goals.

He wasn't a special spider. He was simply an ordinary brown spider, without special advantages like jumping, or a poisonous bite. He wasn't even large. In fact, he could even be described as eensy or weensy. Despite his insignificance, he dreamed big. His dream was to build a web to be proud of. From the corner of the gutter to the wooden siding of the big house, it would sparkle with dew from the morning sun. By mid afternoon it would be large and invisible to prey, promising an end to his hungry nights. Stunning even humans, they would pause to gaze at the glory of its geometric beauty, thinking it too perfect to destroy. He could already picture his almost living dream, there at the end of the tunnel. The tall, slippery, black tunnel that was the water spout.

Wayne sighed as he kicked his grass stained sneaker against a rock in the garden. His mood was as gray as the stormy clouds overhead. "Leonard" he mumbled, "Leonard the bully."

Scratching at the tears peeking out his eyes, he recalled the hurtful names Leonard screamed at him during the recess basketball game. Wayne had worked so hard, and practiced so long. Not long enough. He still stumbled over his feet, and missed crucial baskets. The other boys might have been more patient with him, if it weren't for Leonard. Leonard made laughing at him part of the game. Wayne gazed up at the basketball hoop above him. So high. So impossible. He'd never be good, and Leonard would never go away. It wasn't worth the effort to keep practicing. In frustration, he kicked his basketball across the yard. Running to go kick it again, he noticed a tiny spider by the foot of the ball. Lifting his foot to smash it, Wayne yelled, "I hate spiders! I hate basketball, and I hate Leonards!"

The spider scurried away, barely avoiding disaster that would come from Wayne's shoe. As he lifted his foot high to stomp again, the spider dodged into a crack in the cement. Eight legs flying, he made it to the water spout, and started his precarious assent. His goal and precious dream now combined with a desperate will to survive.

"NOOOOO!" screamed Wayne in frustration, "I hate you! I hate you Leonard! You wont win. I wont let you!!!"

Wayne ran around the side of the house for the garden hose. With a squeak from the pipes, he twisted it on so the water sprayed at full force.

Frantic were the spider's thoughts as he scrambled up the steep, dark tunnel. He had the will power to survive, and a dream to push him forward. He'd reach the top, and make his web, his web to be proud of. Even this hateful human boy wouldn't dare harm him then. Not when he saw his glittering, perfect, masterpiece. He could see something bright at the end of the darkness, and knew he was almost there. It was a shining source of hope, so very close. And then the water came. Great cold bursts of it, sending him crashing down the metal tunnel and swirling into a small pool at the base of the waterspout.

Standing over the tiny spider, hose in hand, was Wayne. Trembling in his shadow, the spider looked up, his many eyes giving him a dozen perspectives of this monster boy. Wayne glared back, seeing not the spider, but Leonard's mocking face. Just then a ray of sun peeked out of the clouds, filtered around the trees, and brought a soft yellow glow to the yard. Wayne could feel it warming his cheeks, and watched it reflect off the puddle at his feet. Relaxing his clenched fist that held the hose, he saw the little spider again. "You're not Leonard", Wayne whispered. Tossing the hose into the flower bed, he said under his breath, "You're me".

Slowly he bent down, picked up his ball, and turned back to his basketball hoop. The spider dashed to the safety of the shadows. He stared up the long, metal tunnel, a faint light sparkling at its end, and started climbing.