The Serpents and the King of Cats
Larry Blazek
I walk down the sun-bright hill into the field, but not all is as it was. There are poisonous serpents there and I am wearing only shorts and sandals, no defense against their fangs.
On this day there is not shy water moccasin or copperhead, as willing to avoid me as I am them, but countless, writhing multitudes of multi-hued serpents, fangs dripping venom.
I attempt to fight my way back home with a stick; cats come to my rescue, not just the two I keep, but waves of hissing, spitting, ferocious felines, destroying serpents, some with human faces, many perishing in the process. At last I return. I feed the cats some milk.
