I am the unseen. For centuries, I have been here, beneath this great city, this metropolis. I know your language. I know all languages. . . . My cave is broad and cool. The sun cannot send its heat down here. The damp soil is rich and fragrant. I turn softly on my back and place my eight legs to the cave ceiling. Then, I listen. I am the spider. I see sound. Furthermore, I feel taste. Furthermore, I hear touch. Furthermore, I spin this story. This is the story I’ve spun.

Lagoon