The old man and the young girl sat on the porch under a busy spider furiously weaving an invisible web over their heads. "Look at it," she said, "so amazing. It's working so hard." The spider raced across the underside of the shade over their heads. Its silken threads were so delicate, the spider looked like it was walking on air, like some arachnid prophet.
The old man and the young girl looked on at the spider spinning a home out of moonbeams and raindrops.
"Now it's too bad," he said, "that it doesn't know that I'm going to use my broom to demolish its new home tomorrow."
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