…Oh. Oh wow. That’s a huge snake. Huh. Didn’t know snakes that big lived around here.
…Hey there, big guy. Are you lost? You look pretty hungry. Um... should I be worried? Nobody else looks concerned, so that’s good… right?
...What *does* this snake want from me? Is it… is it trying to eat my foot? Well, that’s adorable. Ok. I’m ok. Completely calm. No need to draw attention to myself.
If I make a scene, everyone will turn around and stare at me. They’ll be furious that I interrupted the movie, especially since I’m nobody worth fussing over. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
…Oh, golly. How can a snake swallow so much leg without gagging? Impressive! But… maybe now I should call for help? Nope—not doing that. I’ll speak up once I’m in actual danger.
I’m not using my legs right now, anyway. And I’m sure the snake will stop at my hefty hips. Whatever. The situation is completely under control.
… As uncomfortably claustrophobic as this is becoming, I don’t dare cry out. They’ll laugh at me for waiting so long.
“Why didn’t you shout when the snake first coiled around your leg?
” they’ll taunt as they post pictures of me online, and I’ll be forever known as the socially awkward weirdo who was swallowed by a snake in a movie theater and did nothing to prevent it,
due to a paralyzing fear of strangers and intense shame that emerges from no specific source. I’d rather just die.
Although I’ll admit, death from being swallowed by a snake would be comical—like birth, but in reverse.
…I am getting rather short of breath. But it’s probably not because the snake is compressing my heart and lungs. This just happens when I’m nervous. Not that anyone cares.
Like that doctor who examined me last year—totally ignored me when I said sometimes I feel like I can’t get enough air.
That I often have the sensation of being slowly crushed by a papier-mache sky, and the heaviness of the intangible past,
and the future that feels as shifty and teetering as a crumbling bridge across a bottomless chasm. So I’m sure everyone here would agree that defective people aren’t worth saving.
…I accept it. I wasn’t meant to be in this world.
…Magnificent wonders! The snake’s face is so close to mine.
I see its eyes: sparkling kaleidoscopes made of shiny beetles and all the pennies I’ve ever thrown into fountains while wishing for a fearless future. It has no eyelids.
What’s it like to sleep without eyelids, my serpent friend? Do you see your dreams projected onto reality, like holding a rainbow in your hands?
…Long God, let us become one! Assimilate my legs, my eyelids, my primate ego! I—
…Oh, NOW everyone’s rushing to help? Hey folks, no hurry. I’m already mostly digested. Besides, are you all prepared to handle a disembodied head?
**This is *fine*.**