Cleaver Snakes (from the book: "The Jumping Snakes of Bosina")
Cleaver Snakes!
The old man, as he was called, Mr. Goose, being his proper name, had noticed the snakes had a higher quality of skills during the last twelve months, prior to his end date for his quest to be completed; skills in escape procedures, and although you are aware of all this I shall entertain you with one example, story or call it a sketch, one indeed, and one most flustering for him during that last trying year, so you good reader will be aware of the situation at hand, the problem he was facing, for this of course is but one example, and there are 365-days to a year, and the old man faced many similar to this one, the closer he got to the completion of his final fifth year, the day of—what he called, the snake eater called, his day of triumph, conquest, or perhaps wrecking.
The old man followed a medium size, if not smaller size poskok, into the woods, it was on the roadside kind of daydreaming, he got a peripheral view of it, and it dashed off, as they had been doing recently, and in a way almost challenging him. But he was implacably patient, and followed the snake step by step, into the wooded area, and the snake simply moved quickly away, once he, Mr. Goose, got too close, thus, the snake shifted as quick as a blink of an eye, and blended into the autumn leaves, where it was unseeable for the most part.
The old man shouted curses at the snake, something he usually didn’t do, and as he advanced slowly only to witness the snake slid off and over several logs, keeping his distance from him, slid over old decaying trees, and tree stumps, this sliding was incorporated with its leaping ability, it also slid under several branches of tress laying about, until the and man got tired, then somehow the old man got the snake in a corner of two tress, huddled between them—and he thought he had the snake for certain, but the snake coiled itself, and spun and leaped as if in a karate jump, and whirled across the old man’s path, and the old man tried to grab him, but couldn’t, and so he approached gradually again (black birds perched on branches overhead were even amazed that this one snake was so watchful of every move the old man made—glaring eyes they had—as they watched the snake out- maneuver the old man).
The old man moved his hands wildly to distract the viper, but the snake soared past him in one giant leap again, and then in long leaps and bounds the snake was too far in the distance for even the old man to see. Yet again the old man followed him, went in the direction of where he had seen the snake descend from its last leap.
(I guess it is fair to say, all the snakes were becoming as skilled as this one, and all the old man could do, is what he did do, stand there with out flung out arms in the air, brooding. But it is not to say, the old man didn’t get his fell of snakes to eat, he just didn’t get as many as he used to, and it was less and less he captured as time went one.)
7-21-2008
The old man, as he was called, Mr. Goose, being his proper name, had noticed the snakes had a higher quality of skills during the last twelve months, prior to his end date for his quest to be completed; skills in escape procedures, and although you are aware of all this I shall entertain you with one example, story or call it a sketch, one indeed, and one most flustering for him during that last trying year, so you good reader will be aware of the situation at hand, the problem he was facing, for this of course is but one example, and there are 365-days to a year, and the old man faced many similar to this one, the closer he got to the completion of his final fifth year, the day of—what he called, the snake eater called, his day of triumph, conquest, or perhaps wrecking.
The old man followed a medium size, if not smaller size poskok, into the woods, it was on the roadside kind of daydreaming, he got a peripheral view of it, and it dashed off, as they had been doing recently, and in a way almost challenging him. But he was implacably patient, and followed the snake step by step, into the wooded area, and the snake simply moved quickly away, once he, Mr. Goose, got too close, thus, the snake shifted as quick as a blink of an eye, and blended into the autumn leaves, where it was unseeable for the most part.
The old man shouted curses at the snake, something he usually didn’t do, and as he advanced slowly only to witness the snake slid off and over several logs, keeping his distance from him, slid over old decaying trees, and tree stumps, this sliding was incorporated with its leaping ability, it also slid under several branches of tress laying about, until the and man got tired, then somehow the old man got the snake in a corner of two tress, huddled between them—and he thought he had the snake for certain, but the snake coiled itself, and spun and leaped as if in a karate jump, and whirled across the old man’s path, and the old man tried to grab him, but couldn’t, and so he approached gradually again (black birds perched on branches overhead were even amazed that this one snake was so watchful of every move the old man made—glaring eyes they had—as they watched the snake out- maneuver the old man).
The old man moved his hands wildly to distract the viper, but the snake soared past him in one giant leap again, and then in long leaps and bounds the snake was too far in the distance for even the old man to see. Yet again the old man followed him, went in the direction of where he had seen the snake descend from its last leap.
(I guess it is fair to say, all the snakes were becoming as skilled as this one, and all the old man could do, is what he did do, stand there with out flung out arms in the air, brooding. But it is not to say, the old man didn’t get his fell of snakes to eat, he just didn’t get as many as he used to, and it was less and less he captured as time went one.)
7-21-2008
Labels: "Antena Regional": The best of 2006 for promoting culture
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 9:58 AM
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