mistrust

I was with two people - one, a close friend, the other, a woman I have recently befriended. The woman led us into her nursery, a kind of greenhouse full of shade plants, cool and inviting. I felt, however, cautious and stayed by the door, on guard and ready to retreat. The woman moved a few pots and pointed out her hothouse flowers. Long tendrils curled out and gripped the stems of other plants; the air was damp and sweet. I looked about anxiously, fearing snakes were hiding amidst the green. And then I saw one: a pale grey snake with large chocolate eyes - quite beautiful, really - lying quietly on a table between the plants. The woman saw it and, instead of removing it calmly or leaving it be, grabbed it by the neck, held its face to hers and started hissing at it. Initially placid, the snake became increasingly agitated until it opened its jaws wide and hissed back at the woman, furious. I didn't go, but watched horrified, realising I did not trust this woman.