Fissure

3

Bree kicked the door shut and set the laundry baskets on the table. "You have some batty fuckin neighbors."

Shelly sat on the couch, staring at the muted television. The sleepy half lidded look vanished in a fit of laughter. The sound was so full, so genuine that Bree smiled and soon was laughing herself, caught up in the mirth. The heavy feeling clinging to her like

spider web strands tickling your skin and eyes

some sort of film, was completely forgotten for a moment, along with almost the past two years. She was just having fun with her longtime friend and nothing was wrong. Not a thing. Until she went in the bedroom to drop off the sheets and saw the cobweb.

She almost didn't notice. Glanced over and almost kept walking, just one cobweb in a million million in her lifetime, nothing unusual. But it was, after all. Bree stopped so abruptly, her upper body rocked back and forth. "The fuck?"

"See?" Shelly stood in the doorway, arms crossed, coffee cup in one hand. Her eyes were wide and pleading.

It fluttered in that unfelt breeze again. the corner beneath it was far darker than it rightfully should have been, the space where the walls and floor met barely visible. Bree set the sheet in her hands down and knelt in the corner. It rippled and then fell inwards. Her face stopped several inches away. The scent of metal and mildew was stronger. Either the dry smell of dust was being overpowered, or it wasn't there. She couldn't be completely sure, but she had an idea that this cobweb would be nearly identical to the one she'd removed yesterday. Up close like this, in the glow of the midday sun, she could make out the tiny bumps of particles stuck to the strands. It looked to have been sitting there for months.

The one yesterday had moved, so delicate and light even the currents she didn't feel but must surely be there made it ripple. This had been the same until she was close. Now it sat still. Without thinking, she blew gently on it. The web was tugged away from her by the current, but only just, as if far heavier than it appeared.

Then it bubbled up, as if straining against a breath from below and it made her feel like screaming. "It's just a web."

"Cobweb." Shelly corrected.

"Cobwebs take time to form." Her eyes were transfixed on the web. "They have to sit and collect dust."

"They sure do, don't they?"

Every muscle in her body was tense. Without looking away, she reached up to the nightstand and grabbed a Kleenex, the tremor making it tear is it was pulled from the box. She swiped at the cobweb, but it was like moving through molasses, all of her movements were sluggish, restricted. The damn thing just rippled as her hand descended. Then it went still, as if pulled taught at the edges gripping the wall. As if bracing before the strike.

The swipe decimated it. One strand in the deep shadowed corner didn't snap right away, but stretched long, like gum, before pulling apart and fluttering down. Strands swung around the thing paper and draped over her hand. Her first thought was that she shouldn't scratch, it might get under her nails, stick to her finger tips, wind up in her hair or on her face. So she pressed the back of her hand against the carpet and dragged it across, scraping it away. It burned her hand a little, the skin already red and itchy.

She marched past Shelly, who only turned to let her aside, and dumped the Kleenex in the trash. Didn't like the way it sat on top. Slowly expanding, puffing up, twitching and popping free. Dropping a magazine on it and crushing everything down made her feel a little better.