Slithering to let go...

She hissed from her lairs. Her Sinewy luminescent eyes had a glair that could smolder what her fiery breath could not. She moved with the sinuosity of the Rhine, engulfing the darkness that swathed her. She growled and yowled at anything that moved beyond her trapdoor.

She was wounded. The scars oozed a mixture of blood and deceit. She clanked her rusty shackles every time they slid the food in. There was no difference whether her eyes were open or shut. There was an outburst of the omnipresent warm tears of pain always.

Days rounded up into weeks and weeks into months. T

The wounds still hadn’t healed. Nevertheless, they were there. The scabs were misunderstood for poisonous encrustations. She was untouchable, unspeakable of; she was a revolting thought to all of them who stood outside her cell and heard her snarls subdue into whimpers.

At sunset, she sat by her wee window one evening, Shame faced at her stark nakedness that had cloaked her for months now. She seethed and fumed like a Strombolian. She decided that she had to chip the shackles off. One molecule after another. She did. She did so splendidly. The soft voices on the outside soon diminished into pointless whispers. The scabs fell off. The sun had set but she saw the light. She glided laconically into freedom. The snap of the bondage was terse and brusque enough to break her heart into a million shrapnel. There was one last howl that ended her labor. She was born again. She crept out like the serpent that had gotten her there in the first place. That was her last moment in her reptilian form….She was renewed again...She was healed now…