Twilight Trapping

As she sat there, the wind gently swayed her back and forth, sending the tiniest of vibrations through her web, up her legs and to her core. When she was younger, before she was used to it, every shake got her on edge. Tensed her up. Ready to pounce. But as she matured, she learned what kind of vibration she needed to pay attention to - the kind that signaled a meal had been snared.

It was the time of night she looked forward to most. The sun was just beginning to burn off, falling lazily below the horizon. She had only a few more hours of warmth, before the night descended upon her and the moon would rise - illuminating her web in a brilliant light. That was the time she had to go to work, really be focused. Not long after the stars revealed themselves, the first moths would begin fluttering around the night air - their wings beating feverishly to propel themselves towards the moon, swooping back and forth, lost in their seemingly drunken flight patterns.

It was nearly impossible for her to know where they were headed. Each night was different. Where they could come from, where they would go. She'd have to guess. Pick the right spot to interrupt their path. Sometimes they would graze her web, covering her in the dust from their wings as they glided by. Teasing her. Other times one would become entangled, only to break free before she was able to pounce and paralyze it.

It was all just a game, but tonight she had a good feeling. The air was alive with the thumping of beating wings and she could see the sparkling trails they left behind. She was positioned perfectly - her web sprawled out as far as it would go.

All she had left to do was wait.

                                                                                                                           54