Daily Prompt: VIP – Who’s the most important person in your life — and how would your day-to-day existence be different without them?
Slimy I am not. Slithery certainly. Seriously, I’m not slimy. I’m scaly and slinky and seventy plus seventy centimeters. I slither. I circle and search and seek and sift to smell a sneaky rat. I stalk and stare and seek satisfaction.
I certainly sleep in the sun and avoid the shade and shadows. I’ll strike and swallow a swallow in one single swallow as it suffers and suffocates and dissolves to sustain me. I am a slithery snake and sleep under sand to stay sweltering in the shivery shift between sun and sun.
So now, this has shifted and been substituted and something is not similar in dissimilar surroundings. The sun always shines and the sand is not sand and the swallows are insects and glass surrounds my surroundings.
All this started after I started across Simpson Street in Scottsdale and a Solara sped on the smooth surface faster that I slithered and Sammy stepped onto the street and snatched me before my head was smashed. He circled my scales to encompass his shoulders and he stood on the street staring at the Solara license to stick the symbols in his skull.
He asked his source to spoil and satisfy his silly, simple request to set up a safe sanctuary for his new snake Slimy, who is not slimy, but unsaturated, and she said yes.
Sammy’s sister Sarah screams when he shows his society his snake and I slink over leg and arm and hiss. Sarah says snakes are scary and slimy and should be shot, so extreme, but Sammy says no. So I stay with Sammy in glass and on sticks and stones and eat lazy insects under a sun that always shines.