The spider coins were laying there upon the moistened soil. I knew they were the true compensation of my underpaid, strenuous toil. They glistened and gleamed with the shine of moonbeams and held a crystal valor. They sung a tuneless song to eyes that met the mind in uncontrollable clamor.
My luck had finally come, I thought to myself with a grin, so I scooped up the coins and soil and celebrated with aged and delightful gin. I placed the coins upon my mantel and watched and watched for their work to persist, and soon the coins did give way to wander and began to multiply in rhapsody and thunder. Before not long, my home was full to the brim with wealth, but with so many coins, I had nowhere to go; I was stuck in the prize of the legions of my dreams and not even a nearby animal could hear the horror of my screams.
I was desperate and scared when the Coin Collector came. He slithered through the coins like the slither of flames. He slithered to my prison and stripped me of my name; he left me without worries for my mind he did forever maim.