Sew

It's not ether nor wires that move the world wide web, but a gnome with a needle and a spider with flowing thread. For a few coins a day, and a jug of mead to whet his whistle, Chuck the wood gnome knits and purls a black widow's filaments.

And she, in return, sits atop his balding head. Spinning thread, sipping blood from the fruits of the harvest of her threads. Each web rises skyward, caught in tendrils of breeze, unseen by mortal eyes as they reach out and give mortals the illusion of control. But as they thumb Ipods and drink from apps, the web grows tighter from north to south and from east to west.

As mortals release their will to the world wide web, she drinks deep the knowledge they no longer want. Growing stronger and smarter with each passing day, she bides her time, spinning silk for Chuck to weave, for a few coins and jug, biding her time, 'till the web covers Earth's every surface, when she will pull them back in, to feast her hatchlings on the carcasses of her minions.

Chuck knits and purls, caring not for those mundane mortals, only rarely considering, with a tingle of fear, once the mortals were gone, who would pay him coin or fresh mead would provide. Or would she take from him the nourishment of human blood and thought. But no, he's no mere mortal but a treasured child of Earth. If she tries to cut him off - or up - he'll just sew up her thread dispenser.

But for now, for a jug and a few shiny coins, he weaves the web for insipid mortals to tread.

***
Kate
Striving to live the ordinary life in a non-ordinary way.
Kate - Writing & Reading