It is dark and the serpents are out, kissing my feet, licking the air.
The clock ticks and from behind the kitchen door a long wail slithers down the corridor from somewhere in an upstairs room. It is tremulous, fearful, yet full of rage or horror at our frailty, our cruelty.
We are animals - apes with teeth bared in a subtle smile beneath cold, red eyes. And the walls tremble like leaves in the forest.
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