The Serpent

The Serpent

He stood alone in a large old house on a cold windy day- trapped by grievance and loss, with only the hiss of the wind to console him. He picked his date wisely, knowing his timing was imperative to success.

After a bit of fumbling he was ready. His mind calm. His body settled. He only hoped they would understand his resolve.

He mounted the chair as the wind grows silent. Starting up at the beast dangling above him - he embraces it with a childish disposition.

His throat is compressed and crushed by the serpent in one quick motion. Snapping at him - caring not to savour him - friction between his sporadic limbs and his hollow chest mimic the subtle hissing sound that once comforted him. Not now... Now he was anxious and scared- growing nervous, fearful, terrified and worried - he regretted it. "Please!" He struggled. He begged and pleaded, kicking and struggling like an ungrateful infant. But the predator only tightened as his cries turned to gargles and his face grew long and his expression- cold. Flinching and wincing his body flings back and forth as if in some foreign dance. His face turns red, his eyes more so. His hands struggle around his throat.

The snake slows as the boy reciprocates the action. Now in harmony the two flow... Slowly rocking back and forth... Both drifting away... Both tired... Both gone.