A small black speck caught the corner of my eye just before I hit the first step. It was hovering in midair, and my mind registered it first as a fly. It wasn’t moving, though, so my head involuntarily turned to see it fully and, in less than a second, recognized its arachnid shape and posture dangling on the end of a silken line attached to the ceiling above.
It hung right at head height for my daughter beside me. One more step and she would have it in her hair. My right arm shot from my side and the hand closed around the spider, as, in one fluid motion, I pivoted lift and slammed my capture open-palmed into the hallway carpet.
My daughter looked at me annoyed. “Dad, what are you doing?” she asks with a roll of the eyes.
I choose not to tell her that I’ve just literally saved her life.