Page 56 of A Master's Destiny
“That’s what I’m saying, buddy…”
Later, as I get settled in bed, Anderson raps on the door. Popping his head in for a moment, he tells me. “I just had a thought. If you didn’t buy the beeswax candles, then that means someone else did. Someone who bought the exact same colors as you.”
Only one name comes to mind—Slater.
I am riddled with bizarre dreams that night, and they all have a particularly specific snake theme. I have no issues with snakes, and in the dreams, I’m not afraid—until the boa constrictor.
The boa constrictor suddenly appears, along with several rattlers. The others curl up and playfully strike at each other, but the boa constrictor starts moving toward me through the grass.
I’m not afraid of it and make no attempt to run.
Instead, I watch it slither toward me at a leisurely pace for several minutes before I return to my work.
For some unfathomable reason, I’m in a prestigious cooking competition set out in an open field and there’s a large neon clock hanging in midair counting down the minutes.
I already know what I want to cook, but I can’t find the correct ingredients and am searching frantically in the pantry for them. I keep glancing at the clock as I check through the pantry, my anxiety rising with each minute that passes. I will have nothing to present if I don’t find the damn ingredients.
I feel the huge snake brush against my leg but think nothing of it. I even nudge him away with my foot the same way a person would a dog.
I’m starting to panic during my fruitless search and start throwing ingredients left and right in desperation. I finally see my ingredients, but before I can grab them, the pantry fills up with new items.
The boa constrictor has returned, and it slowly begins to wrap itself around my legs. More concerned about losing the cooking competition than the snake, I continue with my search.
There’s a feeling of doom when the clock starts chiming. It’s counting down the final minute and I know I will never finish, but I—
Can’t. Stop. Searching.
Meanwhile, the snake continues to leisurely wind its way up to my chest, then it engulfs my arms.
It’s only when I can no longer move that I notice it is slowly squeezing the life out of me.
Suddenly, the scenes changes and everything in the field disappears except the boa constrictor.
I look up and watch the clouds float leisurely by above while I feel my lungs slowly being constricted tighter and tighter with every breath I take.
True panic sets in and I try to cry out for help, but I can’t make a sound.
Cold darkness closes in around me as I lie there on the ground, dying in a field of grass on a bright summer’s day.
The boa constrictor turns to look at me as it squeezes harder, stealing away my last breath even as I feel the chill of death taking over.
The creature has a human face I know well, and I let out a silent scream of terror just before I die…
I wake up and scramble out of bed, patting my chest to check if I’m okay. I can’t stop gasping, trying to suck in air.
I feel like a fool. I know the snake wasn’t real, but the terror I felt remains strong.
I sink to the floor and force myself to take slow, deep breaths in order to calm myself.
Before I leave for work, I quickly write Anderson a note and leave it on the counter for him to find when he wakes up.
Anderson,
After giving it some thought, I’ve decided you should stay. I would never want you to accuse me of being inefficient.
P.S.– Have a pot of Ribollita soup on the stove when I get home tonight.
~Thane
