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as long as there's still this hunger and will in me ][ scene
There was a snake in the garden this morning - Sparta and Nana were barking at it, waking Alex from having fallen asleep (finally) on the sofa. Black and red banded, she curled around his fingers and wrist as he rescued her from the danger of death by obnoxious noise. Alexander had been dreaming fitfully, in snatches of shadow and strange sound, plagued by images he couldn't quite make out. He was remembering something, that much he knew, but clarity eluded him.
His little snake now lays coiled around an empty water glass beneath his desk lamp, as if she'd been angling to get inside the house the whole time. Alex doesn't mind. She's comforting.
Snakes are good for babies, anyway.
So he thinks - it's instinctive, sleeping in his mother's bed until he was old enough that it would seem strange, surrounded by the low household fires and her host of serpents, warm scales and her skin and soft sheets, the sound of murmured prayers and smell of hot wine. Something just beyond his eyes (gods, the feeling still haunts him).
Alexander presses his hands against his closed eyes and exhales, righting himself for company. Now's not the time to lose himself in spiraling reflection.
His little snake now lays coiled around an empty water glass beneath his desk lamp, as if she'd been angling to get inside the house the whole time. Alex doesn't mind. She's comforting.
Snakes are good for babies, anyway.
So he thinks - it's instinctive, sleeping in his mother's bed until he was old enough that it would seem strange, surrounded by the low household fires and her host of serpents, warm scales and her skin and soft sheets, the sound of murmured prayers and smell of hot wine. Something just beyond his eyes (gods, the feeling still haunts him).
Alexander presses his hands against his closed eyes and exhales, righting himself for company. Now's not the time to lose himself in spiraling reflection.