And the beetle walks. The spit drops onto the square patch of earth. We smile nice for the spider. Thorn bushes lined the edge of the field. We pushed through best we could but became stuck near the spiders large web. ‘Haven’t you time to discuss?’ asked the spider. ‘We’ve just seen the beetle.’ we replied. ‘Have you now? It’s not possible.’ We paused at the spiders untruth. ‘Certainly we did see the beetle. Soon the beetle will be near your web.’ ‘Nonsense, there aren’t any beetles and we all know this. You included.’ The thorns dug into our hips and elbows pushing us nearer the web. ‘You mean our memories are not of a beetle we’ve seen and to replace it with another?’ we asked the spider? ‘There is no beetle.’ said the spider. ‘But what if we insist there was a beetle?’ we asked. The thorns gripped and yanked then pushed.
The Cigar and Wine went well.