She giggled.
That inane sound scraped across my eardrums with agonizing madness. In imagination I saw myself leaping out of my seat and delivering a perfectly executed monologue of sweet satire that would peel away the remnant of that giggle from my memory. I longed to do it. To silence the sound that reeked of superficial desperation. She was so transparent it was almost painful. Every giggle was a pis aller. Her eyes batted coyly as she begged for attention. The need to have us watching her---wondering, guessing and admiring. She craved it. It was her game.
But I wasn't playing anymore. I rolled my eyes, half hoping no one would see, at the same time knowing they would. I was tired of the never-ending cycle of manipulation. Watching flies fall into her net one by one was getting tedious. Still, a small, insistent voice from somewhere in the better half of my soul prevented any words from escaping my lips. For now, I would bite my tongue and grit my teeth, content with my imaginings.
She giggled again.
That spider!
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