Peter’s senses woke him from a long, long dream he had about the cliffs of Scotland. His web trembled just enough to make him open one of his many eyes.

“What now?” he complained to himself. “Can’t I have, just for once, a little picnic nap?”

“A picnap,” he then giggled as he yawned and stretched. He was so funny; he always cracked himself up.

Now that he thought of picnics, he realized he was indeed a little hungry. His stomach growled. But the web already told him that something, perhaps a nice feast, had fortunately dropped from the sky. So he stretched once more and decided to check it out.

After a short stroll down the edge of the window, he discovered that his wait had been fruitful. There she was, a big fly, fighting her way out of the sticky trap.

“Hellooo! Bzzt!” the fly shouted, wiping her eyes with her front legs. “Kind sir, would you mind giving me a leg to get me out of this stuff? You do have plenty you could give. Bzzt!”

“Darn it!” Peter mumbled, stopping in his ascent. “Not this again!”

You see, Peter had been living alone for a very long time, except for the kind lady that lived in this flat. To him, she was his flatmate. The reason he was such a loner was that he was not like his family, or frankly, anyone back in the Arachnovillage. They all thought he was a little different. “A dreamer!” they called him. “Peter, you are supposed to feed on the other insects, not befriend them!”

As they couldn’t make him follow their ways, Peter left home and moved to the city. He found a little dusty corner in this old window and settled here. He’s been here by himself, like a hermit, since then. Well, except for his human flatmate.

“You know I’m a spider, right?” he grunted, approaching the fly. “They say I’m supposed to make you my lunch.”

“Oh!… Bzzt!” the fly suddenly turned quiet. “And will you? I’m sorry I trespassed, bzzt, kind mister!”

“Hmm, I have to say,” Peter said, “I am a little hungry and disappointed on top of it. And woke up on the wrong side of the web. I was hoping for some caterpillar discarded skin at least.”

Who was Peter kidding? He wouldn’t hurt her even if he were starving.

“Heh!” he eventually sighed and began biting the knots surrounding the fly. “Oh, well, you’re free now, little fly! But try to at least keep it down. I have to go back to sleep now to forget I didn’t eat. So long!”

As he turned, the fly, now floating above him, shouted once more in that same annoying tone.

“Hang on! Bzzt! Can you at least tell me your name, mister? I’d very much like to remember the name of the spider that almost ate me!”

“It’s Peter, but I recently learned Russian and Piotr sounds just as fine. What’s your name?”

“I’m Flumsy! Very pleased to meet you, Peter. And since we are now friends, here,” and Flumsy threw down half of a bread crumb she had safely secured in her bag. “I can’t let you go to sleep without eating, or without a reward for sparing me. Bzzt!”

Peter caught the bread crumb in his little fangs and swallowed it without even chewing.

“Not bad! Is it rye?” he asked.

“It’s not. It’s Bye!”

And Flumsy flew away.