Curl Up

Curl Up

Curl up smaller, thought the snake. Don’t move, don’t hiss. Maybe they will think I’m a rock, and move on.

The shadow over her did not pass. She started to feel the phantom weight of it, the crush soon to come.

I am a stone, the snake thought. A stone isn’t afraid. A stone can’t be stomped or bitten.

A pebble, really. She was so small. Barely a week hatched.

The shadow moved on, and with it, the snake collapsed, rigid coils falling loose. She lifted her small head, tasted the air with a tiny tongue, and darted away.

One day she would bite back. But today, it was enough not to be crushed.

Image by Michael Siebert from Pixabay

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