The house was quiet for days.
After the fall of House Horatio, I thought there might be some kind of dramatic return. Maybe a single leg peeking out from behind the curtain. Maybe Horbtio, full of nerves and unfinished business, would try to sneak back in.
But no one came.
They were gone. All three.
The tub was just a tub again. Empty. Unhaunted. Strangely sterile. And if I’m being honest, I missed them. That’s the part that caught me off guard. I missed the presence. The weird stillness. The sense that I wasn’t alone in the bathroom but that it was okay somehow.
Their absence echoed.
And then, tonight, she arrived.
Sleek. Sharp. Built like she’s been through things. I spotted her immediately, perched near the drain with the kind of confidence only something ancient can pull off. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t dart. Just looked up at me like, “You know who I am.”
Her name is HorDtio.
She is not Horatio. She is not Horbtio or Horctio. She’s something else. Bigger maybe, or just more decisive. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t need to test the waters. She made eye contact. She meant it.
So I did what I’ve learned to do. I escorted her out.
I used the same old cup. The one with a crack in the side. I set her gently on the back porch in a shaded corner near the planter pots. The night air was still warm. I even told her good luck.
Ten minutes later, she was back.
I watched her walk through the laundry room and down the hall like she had a key. No panic. No scuttle. Just intention. She turned the corner, crossed the threshold, and returned to the tub like nothing had changed.
Same corner. Same posture. Same claim.
I didn’t know spiders could do that. I didn’t know they remembered like that. But she remembered. She knew where she belonged.
And I let her.
Because HorDtio isn’t a house guest. She isn’t a drifter. She’s a sovereign. She arrived with purpose and reclaimed her throne without asking permission. She didn’t have to.
Maybe she’s the last in a line. Maybe she’s the beginning of something new. I don’t know. All I know is that my tub has a queen again.
And this time, I’m not touching her.
But if she invites roommates, they’re all getting evicted without ceremony.
Let the court resume.
xoxo
-S
Diet Coke and Hair-Spray 