Unfurled

I was looking forward to waking this morning. The promised rain had arrived and I could hear the light tapping against my window.  It’s not so much the grey icy wetness I like to indulge in when I peek outside; rather the extra-ordinary warmth and shelter  I feel being on the inside.

One of the practice I work in had their holiday party tonight. It was held in a beautiful old Georgian home of a sprite, manic internist and her husband.  In addition to the usual detritus of family living, they had a pet corn snake acquired a year ago from a biologist friend who could no longer care for the 14-year-old snake.  It was a surprisingly friendly sort of thing, curling around my arms and finding it’s way into my bag.  We defrosted a small frozen mouse in the microwave and left it with the snake. Josh (the family’s Jewish) contemplated the rigored (and microwaved) mouse for a few minutes, before identifying the tail end which Josh grabbed with his mouth, slowly sucking the mouse whole into it’s widened jaws.  In a few short moments, the snake appeared to be a freak two-headed creature with the mouse’s head sticking out of it’s mouth.  This too slowly disappeared.

I didn’t wait to confirm this, but evidently a small fur ball is the only evidence that will remain of this mini-carnage. Best work-related holiday party I’ve been to.