Women Alone

Because the window cleaning has been delayed this year, my view from the living room includes a huge spider on a huge web. I’ve learned her hours (just before dusk her busiest time), her speed, her focus, her habits. She is busy and sure of leg, unafraid up here, dangling on thin threads seven stories high. In her off-hours, perhaps she observes me as I navigate my rooms, my habits, my hours. We are bold and safe with one another, unselfconscious on either side of a pane of glass, doing the things women do when they are alone.