I Sensed It Before I Found It

I sensed it before I found it. I felt that it was dead, but I did not know what it was. After a day I began to smell it. I brought in others to smell, trying to pinpoint the where. They claimed it was all in my head; no one else sensed or smelled it. I knew all was not well, and this was my sanctuary. My office and my art studio. I finally found a black snake caught in a sticky trap. She had somehow gotten four inches past the trap Before it held her fast, killing her. She was behind a box under my desk. The desk where I sit all the time and type. Now I move cautiously through my office, Hesitating a second before each couch and chair. Waiting for her mate to slither out and bite me. So why am I still barefoot? When my blood runs cold at each step? I hold my breath.