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True Faces |
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| Profession: turning people into stone. |
| Hobbies: being terribly lonely, ‘cause it's lousy conversation talking to people made of stone. And, lacking alternatives, playing poker with my snakes. |
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| Hi, my name is Medusa. I was the ugliest creature of ancient mythology. Yes, that was a long time ago, and at my age I am not getting any prettier either. By the way, the snakes on my head are not made of plastic, they are real, and just as old and nasty as myself. Fascinateing, right? Wrong! Having snakes on your head stinks . . . Why??? Because snakes have a rather peculiar nature. At night they like to slither about, preying on rodents, earthworms, snails and birds. Nothing so peculiar about that right? Well, nothing so peculiar about that if they would go out and do it alone! Of course having so many of those greedy bastards stuck to my head automatically makes me a minority. I am grossly out numbered. And when I am sleeping and unable to defend myself, those crafty reptiles silently slither away into the dark . . . Sometimes I wake to find myself many miles from home, crammed in stuffy burrows beneath the ground. And when I finally dig myself out and get back on my feet again -- my body is scraped and bruised by this time, sometimes I am bleeding, sometimes coughing up dead bugs, dirt and leaves -- those treacherous reptiles pretend to be slumbering, as if nothing had happened at all! And then, acting surprised, they suddenly wake and, innocently, they hiss, “hey, Medusa? what are you doing out here in the forest, at this time of the morning?” . . . Yes, don’t ever trust a snake! They are the lowest form of reptile: it takes them forever to digest their meals, they always cheat at cards, and just image what I look like when they begin shedding their skins. |
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Copyright ©1999 by Michael Hills ... all rights reserved. |
