A web, among two twigs on a poison berry bush. It exists a spider, her name was Nicotine. She was a puny spider. However, one of the most baneful and deadliest spiders in the world, and has the most beautiful voice. A fly, the flies name was Population, Population was two days old. He was a horse fly, and he adored life. A wholesome one and he took care of his body. One day, his friends encouraged Population to "Fly near Niceties web." No he would say, but his friends kept on. "Come on, man" "Ya man, I do it all the time!". So, Population, embarks to fly, is hart racing as he gets closer and closer to the poison berry bush. Closer to the two twigs, and decisively to the web. The sunlight beamed as is small eyes gaze upon an impressive, and irresistible web. Where Nicotine is sleeping in the dead center of the web its self. He gets closer. Hoping to God that is buzzing does not disturb her slumber. Closer. When Nicotines eyes opened, all eight of them stared up at him. It startled, Population flies away. As he was flying, she started to sing. Population's hart rose up and his spirit opened, but he still flew away, with the melody in his small head.
The next day, Population will see the enchanting web once again, but no voice. He craved her voice again. So beautiful, so memorable, he could not oppose. Without any peer pressure, he gets closer to the forbidden web. This time she was not there but the dead carcasses of his fallen friends perched flawlessly in a row. He flies away, quickly. His thoughts raced, "What happened?" "How did they get stuck in the web?" "That will never happen to me!". Then, Nicotine started to sing once again. Population almost lost control of himself and (inattentively) started to follow the tune. But, half way there he woke up and flew away. "Tomorrow, I shall prove that!".
Tomorrow it will come. At night, Population is hovering over the web. More deceased beings in and around the web. "One more time!" he kept babbling. "Just one!". At first look, both Population and Nicotine got anxious. Population flew as fast as he could to the famished spider. He was finally at an eye level with her. She sang, slowly he hovered toward her. "So amazing! So great!" Population thought. He hovered until he was affixed to the fabric. He stares at her, as if she was a mother to him. She spat out a white material out of her Spinneret. He was still drugged, lost in the song as the substance covered his head.
Poor Population. Him and numerous others became a statistic to the mighty spider. Nicotine.