Well, it happened again. The jumping spider that lives under my porch table showed himself; I attacked it; it disappeared.
I saw his shadow through the paper towel as he crawled on the reverse side . . .
. . . and thought, I've got you now, *sshole.
The flyswatter was within reach. I snuck around to the back edge of the table and gave the paper towel a hard wallop. And could not find the spider, dead or alive, anywhere near the table.
I went back to my chair, defeated and unsettled, thinking about how the blow might have fired the spider right into my chair . . . .
UPDATE:
I noticed something dark under the green cone (which I had already looked under) . . .
Before I lifted it, I gave it a good whack with my fist.
Sure enough, there was a spider under it.
A flat one.
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