Reptile
by Terry L Persun
[ fiction - august 04 ]
This morning, as most mornings, I walk in the cold to stir my body to consciousness. Although I try to see something profound in four playing squirrels, I am hardly able to concentrate on them at all. The cold creates a haze around me. I could easily sleep standing up. The animal inside me must be reptilian; it must hibernate during short days. But like a snake, uncovered in the dead of winter, I find enough warm blood in me to strike, enough warmth in stray sunbeams to let me crawl into another hiding place where I can curl up and go on dreaming.
