Spiderllets – Chapter 2

It was her first time exploring Fishnick. She had just moved after all. On the way to their accommodations, she was intrigued by how much the path they took reminded her of Epsterfarce. This particular section of town was tiled with reddened-brown bricks, and had luscious trees growing on each side.

Maybe she was just homesick – that’s if she ever had a home before in the first place.

“How was your flight?” said she, attempting to break away from the potentially melancholic emotions her previous thoughts would have brought her.

“Surprisingly comfy considering it was my first ride on a Spiderllet. They are the supposed younglings of spiders, right? But it was a whole new travel experience. Spiders transit by building their webs from tree to tree in Huggerspread, and Spiderllets…Well, they fly with these massive wings…” replied Read.

“Astounding isn’t it, that they are in fact, the same creature.” said she in agreement.

“Truly. Although, it probably isn’t all that hard to imagine. If you think about it, a person can easily have two bodies.”

“Two bodies? Now, whatever could you mean?”

“A person; the same person, can choose to live a disciplined lifestyle, watching what he eats, exercising, and have one kind of body; he can also choose to live an ill-disciplined life that involves gluttony and laziness and have a different body.”


“See where I’m going with this?”

She nods as she is reminded that one of the reasons she so enjoyed Read’s company was his ability to really think things through. Intelligence is the best suit on a man, she thought to herself, I need to pen that down before I forget.

“In the same way, Spiderllets become spiders when they force themselves to use their tiny, tiny legs, forgoing the use of their wings. In time, their legs grow stronger, bigger, longer, and their wings fall or disintegrate from lack of using, leaving us with a creature known as a ‘spider’.”

It was as if, not just one but, many lightbulbs seemed to pop up all over the place, and she suddenly understood why every Spiderllet that she had seen used for flying had been chained by its tiny legs… Cruelty or necessityHmm.. she contemplated.

They had reached their accommodation and had a nice chat with its owner, an apparent foreigner, who had features different from that of the broad-faced, sharp-eyed Fishnicks. Despite his foreign descent, she and Read got a few tips from him, and planned out a cohesive route for the day, concentrated mostly around exploring the town’s food spots.

Fishnicks were known for their food as well as their cooking prowess after all. She was especially looking forward to the famed night stalls which only, as its name suggests, pop up in the night. No one ever knows where, and one can only hope to find them once the blue-black night falls and spreads from the tip to the center of town.


She and Read – Chapter 1

She had participated in the Imagination Club’s Halloween party and stayed out later than she had planned to. Rushing home in the darkness, she was careful to avoid the potholes and various creatures that the game at the party had spawned. She hoped the party and its effects hadn’t caused too much of a disturbance to the neighbourhood.

The next morning, she headed out to pick Read up from the Fishnick port. Though she had left early enough, she got carried away salivating at the abundance of delicious-looking bread in the chain bakery, Dortran, at the station. Before she knew it, Read’s pet vulture, Doug, came bearing news that he had already arrived and was waiting at the port.

She hurried to catch the train there.

Thankfully, I have my convenient starco card with me and don’t have to spend time buying a ticket, she thought to herself.

Lo and behold, the gate emitted a beep, and instead of opening like it usually did, it pointed her in the direction of a transit officer. As she had always doubted technology, she tried again, willing the gates to open. Soon, a transit officer was beckoning her come hither, upon which she reluctantly went.

He spoke what seemed like gibberish to her.
To her surprise, she understood what she needed to do.

Rushing back, past Dortran and towards the main train station, she communicated in a way (it still seemed like gibberish to her) that somehow meant something to the station officer. He took her card, handling it in a less than gentle way, forcefully stabbing it through a metal like pole, coaxing it (more likely threatening it) to do its job.

“I knew it, I should have roughened that gate up”, she muttered to herself.

The voice of the station officer broke her out of the imagined battle she was having with the gate, just at the moment when she had the gate by its sides and was about to implement a headlock-sort-of move, allowing her to emerge, supposedly, victorious.

She finally made it to the port. Ignoring the smell coming from the clouds of smoke formed by groups of Fishnicks going about their daily routine, she walked forward and kept an eye out for someone bent over, with his eyes directed at some form of book or reading device in his hands.

She saw no one; at least, no one that fit that description.

She had a sudden flashback to a time two years prior, where Read had called her at three in the morning the day his flight was supposed to be on-course to meet her in Epsterfarce.

“I missed it.” Said he.

Missed it?” Replied she.

 “The flight!”

 “The… fli–wait what?!?”

“Yea… the next one will only be ready after it’s been fed.”

“And, how long will that be?? Which flight are you on?”

“Umm… I don’t know what it’s called.”

“Right, of course you don’t. Why did I even bother, you never know their names.”
Said she, as her eyes did a literal mental backward roll.
This did indeed cause her to feel a moment of dizziness.

“Well, it’s one of those spiky red types with eight legs…” he continued.

 Eight legs? They all have eight legs!! And with spikes?! I told you to pay more for the comfy flights… Anyhow, I guess, that’s the kind that will need about 17 hours’ worth of feed then.”

 “Yea… I’m sorry, looks like I’ll be a day late.”

 “It’s alright, I guess it could be worse.” Said she, as she wondered how she was going to get back to bed after the unexpected turn of events.

The memory faded, and she sighed in relief as she spotted that all too familiar face, hunched over a thick, heavily read book; dogged-eared and slightly crumpled around the edges. As she made her way over, she waved to the spiky red-winged spider on the right, who sung a little tune in response. With tiny limbs chained to the port, it was delighted by any friendliness it received; whatever form that sentiment might come in.