He was not very big as spiders go, probably about five centimetres from the tip of one leg to the tip of the one opposite. (I almost wrote from, “wingtip to wingtip.”) He was also very low-slung. His belly seemed to scrape on floor or wall as he scuttled along.
A Matter of Statistics
On one day recently, Oom Wessel (not me) had a spade stolen that he had left outside, Bennie who farms with a modest variety of livestock lost one hundred chickens, a visitor from a civilised place called Johannesburg lost her car in a hi-jacking, a young man from the Pieterse