He sighed. Carved the webbing from the door along with the petrified corpse of his eight-legged friend Miles.
Miles was amazing. A solid friend who kept flies out of his basement and away from where he practiced his turntables every Sunday. And in return, he allowed Miles to use the real estate at the top corner of his basement door. To grow his web-condominium. Shelter from the unpredictable autumn elements.
He used the plastic knife to scrape webbing into a paper towel.
His dog licked his hand. Woof.
He softly pinched his dog’s ear. “I’ll miss him too.”