Several large rattlesnakes were on the table, crawling restlessly among the dishes, shaking their tails.
Several large rattlesnakes were on the table, crawling restlessly among the dishes, shaking their tails. As she looked, the bodice of the woman’s apron bulged. For one moment Cynthia thought the woman was still alive in spite of her purple face and glazed eyes, that she was breathing, and then a triangular snake’s head pushed up through the ruffles, and tiny black buckshot eyes looked across at her.
The snake opened its mouth and hissed. Its tongue danced.
And more of them. Snakes on the floor under the table, crawling over the dead man’s shoes. Snakes beyond them, in the kitchen—she could see a huge one, a diamond-back, slithering along the Formica counter beneath the microwave.
