Otto peered out onto another misty morning. Fine drops of dew decorated his web, glistening in the sunlight.
Sounds of guests wakening echoed round the hotel.
He heard scurrying. It was Slater. He was well-meaning, but a louse.
‘Another attack last night. Cleo this time. Why do they do it?’
‘It’s in their nature.’
‘They built this place for us, then they kill us first chance they get. Or stick us in a jar.’ Slater scurried away.
Otto scuttled back into the dark corner of his room where Cleo was still struggling to escape the sticky silk.
Time for breakfast.
Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).
To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
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