The Asp

Beware the perils of the golden asp whose world is of dust and death he moves as smoothly as satin and is as deadly as anthrax. How he writhes upon his belly intent on catching his victim ever searching, ever hunting preditory, with pure blood lust. In the apex of a dark night that is blacker than India ink the asp spies his helpless prey with distant, unblinking eyes. How he hisses, a heathen sound then flares his upturned nostrils how he flits his forked tongue about. Sharp fangs boldly appear from his scaly, snake mouth then suddenly, the asp leaps striking with prodigious precision paralyzing his prey. How quickly he hastens its demise ushering his catch through death’s distant door. Oh, beware the perils of the golden asp! Written on 5/2/2018