The two large alien arachnids skulked in the shadows watching and waiting. Then the smaller of the two leaned across to the other and whispered,
“Tell me again Alf, how’s this going to work?”
“Dead simple Sam. When the human thing comes in here to put on his old boots his feet will be trapped in our webs. He won’t be able to move.”
“You start nibbling his right leg, I’ll have a go at the left. Well leave the arms and torso for lunchtime and the head will make a nice supper before bed. Are you ready?”
Photo courtesy of Sarah Potter
A 100-word story for Friday Fictioneers.