Joanna stared at the little spider that had just slipped out of the envelope. It was a tiny thing, smaller than her pinky fingernail, and almost entirely made of legs; if it had a body, she couldn't really see much more of it than a tiny black dot. It slowly descended on a long line of gossamer silk, and at last landed on the floor. It looked this way and that, and then stopped moving.
Another black leg peeked out through the crack in the envelope, and soon was followed by the body of another tiny spider. This, too, crawled over the edge and then descended to the floor on a long strand.
Then another crept out through the crack, and another. Soon they were coming out by twos and threes, and then fives and tens, and Joanna would have been horrified if she wasn't so curious where they were all coming from.
And each and every one climbed down to the floor, and stood there, in a growing clump of barely-moving spiders, as if they were all waiting for something.
