Damned Funny

The man glared at the ceiling of his tiny apartment. There it was again, in the corner above the kitchenette. Another cobweb.

Fixing breakfast had been tiring. Now he had to find the broom.

The old man took a minute to reach the closet. Grabbing the broom, pausing to catch his breath, he returned to the kitchenette’s stained counter and leaned against it.

He inverted the broom, raised its bristles. His arms began to shake. He reached toward the ceiling to sweep the cobwebs, enlarging an ugly smudge.

The following morning the man bent aching legs to pull on clean socks. From the edge of his bed he appraised the room. The broom still leaned against the kitchenette counter. Dirty dishes still overtopped the sink. He would have to manage the building’s stairs and cross the parking lot to the dumpster, because the trashcan under the sink was overflowing.

What’s more, he remembered that the refrigerator was almost empty, so that meant walking a block to the convenience store and carrying a bag back. He steeled himself.

Late in the afternoon he returned to his apartment.

Breathing heavily, triumphant, he slowly unloaded a bag of fresh groceries, bent to shove a clean new plastic bag into the empty trashcan, washed and dried the dishes, making them sparkle, then, light-headed, reached cans up into the cabinet above the sink. With blessed finality, he shut the cabinet door. Then he saw it: another cobweb.

“God damn it.”

He saw the spider on the ceiling where it always seemed to be. “Damn you!”

The spider was motionless.

Angrily the old man grabbed the broom. He turned the broom over. He was determined to use its hard end as a bludgeon. No more ugly smudges. Arms shaking violently, he readied a fatal thrust.

It should be simple to kill a small spider. The thing was inconsequential. A speck of clinging life, there on the ceiling where it always seemed to be, maker of cobwebs, in a shadow.

The old man steadied himself.

He punched a hole in the ceiling.

The spider dashed into it.

The man weakly dropped the broom onto the hard floor and the sudden crash made him jump. Embarrassed, he laughed at himself.

He laughed at the hole he had made.

“Now that was damned funny,” he admitted to himself.