I had an itsy-bitsy spider

Last night, by the light on my desk and glow of my computer screen, I watched a really, really tiny—no, a micro, a nano—spider work her web around the bottom of the lampshade. She could easily fit on the head of a pin, with room to spare. I'd had my eye on her for a couple of days. Under this spotlight in the otherwise dark room, I could just make out her web. I knew anyway that she was making silk because she zipped up-down, up-down, on her self-made, well-controlled, invisible bungee cord.
It might be the inclination of some, if not most, to squash such a tiny spider, seen as an alien invader sure to make trouble, or just because that's what we do. But I had no such thought. She was harmless, industrious, and apparently able to find something even smaller than herself to eat. Heretofore unaware of the presence of even smaller fauna in my home, I though her presence might have even been benefiting me.
I grabbed my macro lens, which can pick amazing details out of very small objects, but it was exceedingly hard to get the light right and to get close enough. Nonetheless I managed a couple of shots. Here she is, folks, business-end pointed at you, a nearly microscopic wonder of life.

This morning, every trace was gone.