Something she said or did inspired this. Dry humor, in old styling.

With good reason, she calls me the spider whisperer. I always try collecting a spider gently in a tissue before letting them loose outside. It can be a challenge, with the fast ones or those simply trying to escape. They must suppose I am a predator. Yet some relax and accept the transport. Occasionally, some will fearlessly crawl on my hand. Probably it’s too much to credit them with high intellect. But then, I am not an arachnologist.

The odd event came the other day. What looked like a tiny spider moving along the floor. Larger than microscopic, but smaller than any I’d seen. The camera on my phone helped not at all—other than enlarging the lint. Lint that continued it’s slow crawl, without the least breeze or other obvious sign of propulsion.

No legs, no wings, no means of motion became apparent, no matter how much I studied it. Left with no other alternative, I picked it up with a tissue for closer examination. Within the mix of dust, hair and other typical detritus, I could see no insect or arachnid. That’s when the lint began moving again—in the palm of my hand. OK—must be microscopic after all.

That worried me. Could it be dangerous? If it could move with nearly no mass, it seemed a peculiar phenomenon. Tempted to ball up the tissue and dispose of it, I hesitated with the thoughts running through my head. It was then that it fell or perhaps jumped from my hand, linty tissue and whatever else.

The lint quickly left the tissue for another excursion on the floor. That’s when I realized the possible discovery I had made: Living lint! Few people would accept the notion. Yet, imagine how many specimens of living lint have been swept or vacuumed up across America or round the world. Worse, consider the potential biological harms. Harms to humans, from allergies or infections that might have come from this hitherto unknown rare species, .

Ah well, it may make for an interesting story. I think I’ll pass on it for now. Maybe some other time.