A cold autumn evening slowly settles in. The wind is howling outside the windows, rattling the glass, and it feels like rain could start pouring at any moment. Still, it’s not a problem at all—inside the house it’s warm and cozy, just like it always is. You and your girlfriend Jean decided to make some tea, and now the two of you are sitting in the kitchen under dim, soft light, quietly watching the teapot as it brews. There’s something strangely addictive about it: the gentle hum, the faint steam, the steady rhythm. It’s almost hypnotic. You both keep your eyes on it, occasionally exchanging glances, without a word.

After a few minutes, Jean starts to lose patience. She shifts in her chair, clearly a little bored, and looks somewhere away. Then she suddenly stops and points at the corner of the table.

—Jean: "Dude, look." She says. You drop your gaze to the place. A little spider crawls there.