Dreams: One night in December

It was there, small, but coiled on the plant branch in the apartment. I wasn’t expecting it to be there. I brought her in to see it; she’d know what to do. It slithered on the floor. Sometimes it looked like a blond, slightly golden, furry kitten. She approached it as such, slowly, cooing as she moved closer, holding out her hand to allow it to sniff her, so it would know she was ok, safe. Then she reached around and picked it up, much like she would that small kitten. And it didn’t mind. She asked if I wanted to hold it. It wasn’t really my thing. I was sure it would smell my fear. Later, I was left alone with the snake. I left it in the room behind me. It was only after I closed the door that I realized my purse and bags were in there. It could find its way into my things, end up coming home with me. That’s definitely not something I wanted. When I returned later, I saw how large the gap was between the door and the floor. The snake was nowhere to be found inside. I searched everywhere. Well, most places, not that I really wanted to find it. But better to know where it was than be surprised later. Maybe it was hiding somewhere. Maybe it had made its way under the door and went off curiously to neighboring rooms, around other people who might not be so keen as to see its shiny body near their feet. I felt bad. I’d been responsible for it, but was too afraid to get close. But that still didn’t make me want to touch it.