Today I picked the legs off of a spider. One by one. I paused between each leg, to laugh menacingly. The spider would gaze back at me and beg for the torture to end. I spotted a thousand tiny tears drop from its thousand tiny eyes. I was unmoved. I plucked each leg, again and again. When I finished my gruesome task, I allowed it to sit on its own, as it tried to wriggle away. How does it feel to be trapped, spider?
Such tiny cruelties. This is who I am: A collector of tiny cruelties.
Such tiny cruelties. This is who I am: A collector of tiny cruelties.