Webbing

Cas

You wake up. Rivulets of light shine in through the gossamer curtains. You shut your eyes once more and turn your head from the harsh brightness.
Today is important. It's just a tickle of a thought that wriggles against your consciousness. The thought is as easy to brush away as the fly that lands near your head and buzzes so close to your ears.
You stand and move to your closet.
A small black spider crawls along the top of the left door, right beneath peeling grey paint.
Ignore the spider.
Attack the spider.
Capture the spider.
Panic. 
Go back to bed.