By Tinamarie Cox
The skies were clear and a cold shade of blue,
clouds white and beginning to swell with the future rains,
when I decided
I was in need of filling my lungs with the fresh spring air.
The grass was a mix of green and sweet-smelling,
tall enough to tickle my fingertips.
Far from my humble cottage, mountains in view,
I spotted wings spread wide against the horizon.
I thought nothing of the bird rising,
a large shadow on the sun.
I assumed it was an eagle heading for the fields.
But then came its call,
a loud, chilling screech of something
that was surely birthed from the fiery depths of Hell.
My skin prickled up from the sound.
I knew in an instant
it was a demon creature,
a feathered serpent
coming upon me as I walked God’s land innocently.
Time doubled, and
the event happened too fast for comprehension or fear.
A flash of hooked claws, and a change in my elevation.
A searing pain of needle teeth at the base of my neck.
A draining feeling, life sucked out from my very bones.
The earth below me was splattered with crimson.
And as I unwillingly fed the snallygaster with my mortal body,
I wondered if my soul would accompany the monster
back to its home in Hell, despite my good Christian nature.
My vision melted into black, and
last I remembered,
before my final slumber overtook me,
I hoped it would not be my poor wife to find
whatever the devil’s pet had left of me.
Tinamarie Cox currently lives in Northern Arizona with her husband and two children. She writes to escape her mind and explore the universe. Tinamarie's poetry has appeared in Nevermore Journal, Grim & Gilded, The Sirens Call, and others. While she doesn't consider her life exceptionally interesting, you can follow her writing on Instagram and Twitter.