Dear spider on my keyboard,
I had thought you might have literary pretensions as you danced across the keys, alas too light to make an impression on the world of writing. I tried to follow your choices, thinking I could type them out for you -- a little thing to offer between one writer and another; I have always been fond of archie and mehitabel. Then you stopped and glared as you took up residence on the delete key.
I realized then that you were a critic, not an author. The world is filled with too many critics.
Goodbye, damned spider.
100 words exactly
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