When I was little, my Grandpa took me to a garage sale and let me pick out one thing. Whatever I wanted.
I came home with something very similar to this:
The only difference was: mine was ten times cooler. About two feet high, a foot wide -- a black, coiled, (weighty) plastic cobra with ruby red eyes. Quite simply, awesome.
I carried it with me everywhere. Slinging it under my arm and waddling to and fro -- from friend's homes to playtime in the backyard to car rides to visit relatives. I hesitate to say I "played" with it. Because, let's be honest, there's not much you can do with a awkward-shaped reptile. And so it became more of a presence. Keeping watch in the corner as My Little Ponies frolicked and Cabbage Patch Kids got their hair braided. To be honest, I can't remember a single reaction from a friend or family member. Must have blocked that out.
Each night I slid open my closet door and put Slither into a small space I'd create for him. Each morning, his piercing eyes would greet me as I opened the door, and on we'd go.
Until one day. Slither went missing. I searched high and low for the entire day. Questioning my brothers, my mom, my dad. No trace. It was gently suggested that I'd misplaced him. I never saw Slither again.
The topic was recently broached at Thanksgiving. Everyone's still tight-lipped. A little suspicious if you ask me.
Which resulted in me sending this card:
