Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Must Kill Black Snakes

Rarely does one get a second chance to make a first impression in the search for love.

I did.

I hope it never happens again.

Three years after a brief encounter and an exhaustive journey to arrange a second meeting, I was looking into her obdurate Colombian brown eyes. Listening to her Ivy League voice, punctuated by her legal training and interrupted by the protectiveness of a single mother.

“I can’t take guys home… could be a…”

"Oh, please! Do you know how much it cost to rescue Betancourt? She knew the risk."

Her questions and comments continued.

“Why haven’t you ever been married? I hope you're not looking at me. I don't see myself ever getting married again."

"When was the last time you went home to Massachusetts? I won’t take my family for granted.”

“Let me tell you how it is.”

I had figured this woman completed me, but more importantly, she stopped me. Stopped me from my daily unexamined existence and allowed me to think there was a chance at love.

But after each statement, I wondered: How could I win this woman’s heart?

Certainly she could find someone more powerful and wealthy. Better looking and a better dancer. But I doubted she would ever find a better steward of her beauty.

I tried to be funny and articulate, but that night the ability to speak betrayed me. And I have never really been considered funny.

Then she said it. I had my answer. And now my heart ached like a schoolboy’s.

“The only reason I need a man in my life is to kill those black snakes that are occasionally in front of my building.”

My eyes and heart did not change, but my head already battered with insecurities convinced me I had no chance with her.

So what sense would it make to kill those black snakes?

More writing by this author

Blogs on This Site