We capture the spider in a glass. It’s a tall one. We were going to slide a piece of paper under it, but the glass works well enough on its own. We measure the spider. One inch. We go outside and nudge it out over the garden. The spider sits there for a moment and then begins to run back towards the building. It’s fast.
Quick, someone says. Close the door.
The rush of cool, air conditioned office air is cut off from the outside world. The spider stops on the sidewalk.
The spider is the size of my thumb nail and trying very hard to stay on the piece of paper. The paper moves with each human step and the spider begins to slip. It spins web and attaches it, slowly spiraling down, trying to find a second point to anchor on.
It finds my glasses.