short stories
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SEPTEMBER -The Mysterious Season of mist and Spiders
It was a sultry day after the sun had drunk the dew. The hedges in the hedgerow had been studiously fretted trim. But there, woven between the dew-laden branches were festoons of spider’s webs, far more than previous years, where the dew drops hung trembling on the translucent whisps, enhancing their beauty. There the spider will be waiting, just out of sight, and with the slightest vibration she will come to seize. They are resilient intricate artists and are adorned with many skills.