ello, jello

Had another snake dream last night. We were in Australia, and Australia looked an awful lot like rural Nevada. Mountains and crackly heat and trickling stream and all. Our tour guide was a pretty dyke, older than me by a decade maybe. The snakes slithered in and out of the water like black and white striped ribbons. She didn’t need to say it, but we all knew. A single bite would kill us. So then just don’t get bit, she said. We didn’t get any closer.