The Viper
It’s a little past 2:00 a.m. Unbelievably exhausted yet unable to sleep. Just want to shout into a void for a bit.
There’s a story I’ve been reflecting on a lot lately. A man climbed a mountain and on his way down encountered a poisonous viper. “Would you please pick me up and take me to the foot of the mountain?” Asked the viper.
“No,” said the man, “Because I know you will bite me.”
“I promise I won’t bite you,” swore the viper, “I will have nothing but gratitude for your assistance.”
Eventually, the man gave in to the viper’s pleas. He picked it up and set it around his shoulders. During the journey down the mountain, they spoke at length, laughed, and intimately bonded. Along the way, the man found he was indescribably grateful for the viper’s company and wondered why he doubted it in the first place.
When they reached the foot of the mountain, the man paused, sad that the journey with his new friend was coming to a close. But did it have to? Perhaps the viper would want him to carry it further. Perhaps they could be together for the rest of their lives.
In a way, that wish was tragically met. As he opened his mouth to ask the viper if it wanted to travel further with him, the viper sunk its teeth into his neck. The poison pumped into his system, robbing him of all strength as he slumped to the earth.
The viper started to slither away. Bewildered, betrayed, and wounded, the man choked, “Why?”
The viper was confused by the question. “We’ve reached where I wanted to go,” it said, “This is where we part ways.”
“You promised,” the man gasped, feebly clutching at the bite marks in his neck.
Again, the viper was confused. What did its promises matter? It simply lived in accordance with its own nature. If anything, it was annoyed that the man had the gall to hold it to any higher standard. At the beginning the man said he knew the viper would bite him. Now that he was bitten, he was pretending to be surprised.
As the man’s life ebbed, the last words he heard were the viper saying, “You knew what I was when you picked me up.”
Unlike the man in the story, I will survive the poison from my viper. It burns now, but soon it will just be numb. A part of me will likely always be necrotized and blackened. Unfeeling, dead flesh. The rest of my body will move forward.
Alive. Unburdened. Alone.