Every now and then, Farewell burst into excessively sonorous laughter. At each of these guffaws, I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked like the god Pan, or Bacchus in his den, or some demented Spanish conquistador ensconced in a southern fort. The...
“What was it for?” I said. “What did you do with the snake poop?” “There was a professor at Miami. In the biology department. A herpetologist. He agreed to take a look at it.” “And?” “He felt confident it was not...
…I told her my dreams. I told her about the big snake of the world that was coiled in the earth like a worm in an apple and would some day nudge up a hill to be there – after known as snake hill and fold out upon the plain, a hundred miles long, and...