A snake split in half, cut right down the center with a hunting knife, only it must be as long as my entire body if it could stand. It’s all soft and pink in there. Two yards of ruffled skin surrounding the gelatinous meat. All the way down its center are a mess of eggs, veiny, nervous tissue, pulsing like little hearts, swollen. One egg has burst, and there are little black things slithering out of its mother and into the hard snow. We watch the rest of the little babies bouncing around in their membranous cages.
From “The Cereal”