His touch was easy, fine, delicate. It had a slightly scary appearance, it put a little fear in your bones, but then, contrary to all expectations, it was of a special kind. In my eyes at least. I could play with it and love it until I would get tired.
He had a static, fixed, unforgiving look, but after you knew him you would see him a little more friendly. You were touching its smooth skin and it seemed even more merciful, more comfortable.
I could enjoy myself and him, comfort him innocently and affectionately, as my best friend, to play with him, to let him play with me. He was also a kid like all the other pets, something different than they are of course, but no less special.
“Can I pet him?” I asked the girl with boyish air and short hair, covered by a bandana. The mother of the snake that I was holding in my hands, two feet long, was curled up behind her master’s neck.
I don’t know why I always felt attracted to snakes. Maybe their instinctual calmness, ready to jump to your throat when they get closer to you. To my surprise, they have warm skin, contrary to the cold blood hunger. In this regard us, humans, are a little similar.