Year of the Snake
She had been born in the year of the Snake, that’s what the paper restaurant placemat said. Dara traced her finger over her birth year and frowned a little.
She liked rabbits and she liked dogs. She wouldn’t have minded being a tiger or a dragon. Even the chibi ox printed on the placemat had a charm to it.
But she was a snake. The one thing she was most afraid of in the world.
Ophidiophobia. A fear of snakes. That’s what Wikipedia said she had.
When she was really small–like still wearing pull-ups small–she’d been sitting in the yard on a checkered blanket playing with her dolls when she’d felt something crawling over her toes and up her leg. And she’d looked, and even without know what it was, she’d been absolutely terrified.
Now, as a big girl, she knew that it had been a garter snake and that it couldn’t hurt her. But when she’d been small… Seeing that thing crawling on her leg had left a deep scar on her psyche.
Even thinking about snakes sent a chill over her skin and made her stomach ache. She was terrified of them, with their blank black eyes and the way their tongues would flick out as they tasted the air. Or when they ate something and their whole heads would open up to reveal that maw lined by sharp fangs.
She hated snakes.
And now, looking at the placemat, she found out she was a snake.
Dara sighed and moved her plate to cover the placemat, refusing to look at it.
No matter what good words were said about snakes, she didn’t think she could bear being something she was so scared of.
Why couldn’t I have been a dog? she thought.
"Hey Dad," she said, "can we get a dog?"
"A dog?" Izan looked at his daughter, wondering where this had come from. The way her brain worked was a complete mystery to him. Even looking into her eyes, he could never tell what she was thinking.
Dara licked her fork. "Yeah. A dog. Can we get one? It doesn’t have to be a big one." She held her hands a few inches apart to represent a size. "We can get a little one. A cute little dog. I’ll take care of it. Feed it. Walk it. I’ll even pick up it’s poop!"
"Well…"
"Please Dad? I really want one and… and… It’s… It’s my year!"
"It’s your year?"
"Yeah. It’s my year. So we should get a dog that’s born in the same year as me and we’ll be best friends because we’ll be the same!"
Izan looked at her pleading face, then sighed. "I’ll have to talk to your mom."
Dara grinned, knowing that she’d be getting a dog. She kicked her feet and scooped up another forkful of fried rice. "We’ll have to get a collar and a leash and all kinds of toys! I’m so excited."
Izan watched his daughter eat and couldn’t help smiling to himself. She was humming under her breath, and her feet couldn’t stay still, little white laces dangling. She was so happy that he couldn’t bear to break her mood.
I guess this is the year we’re getting a dog, he thought.
=END=
~Harper Kingsley
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