When the spider spins its web, it transposes itself into the center of its own universe and creates numerous paths to a world of new discoveries. While it is intentionally either protecting itself or hunting for prey, it leaves a visible mark wherever it goes. The spider never meets good company, for whichever insect dares to enter its home, it never comes out alive. Eventually the spider's soul may become the prey of its own cunning mind, desperately feeding on itself in a miserable cycle of loneliness and self destruction, reacting like a helpless fly about to become dinner. Who is the fly and who is the spider in this scenario? The one who tells the story has the power to spin the tale. In a reversal of roles, the fly comforts the spider amidst the chilling sounds of its predator's inconsolable wail: "I don’t mean to prey. You don’t understand me. You don’t know what it’s like to be me." "You’re right, I never have," the fly thinks. It then holds the spider to its heart until all the wails are exhaled. “I vow to listen, to be present, to offer light, and love, however many times you need it, I will give you love,” said the fly to the spider in a motherly embrace.