When we first moved into our old house,
we found an awesome pile of snake skins
in an ancient underground crawl-space.
“Looks like they’ve been here since the year one,”
my husband said with a chuckle.
“Eeeew,” I said with a shudder.
Next spring I hauled some fertilizer outside to spread on the garden.
As I dug bare-handed into the powdery stuff, I felt something of form and substance in there; something utterly foreign and loathsome to me.
And though my mind couldn’t identify it, I believe my body recalled that long-ago garden and the touch of the first woman’s hand on a serpent who talked some trash to her.
SSSSSAAAAAAAKE!!!!! I screamed.