I killed a snake yesterday morning. Well, they all said it was a snake. It was long and slithery and shiny like a snake, but otherwise, it looked much like an overgrown worm.
Somehow Mr. Snake-Worm made his way onto our compound, near the kitchen. The mamas, some kids, and even a few of the older boys were sitting around watching said creature with concerned expressions, while Mama Edna stood closer to the beast wielding a bamboo stick.
I wasn’t impressed by the little varmint and would have simply tread on him, but I thought that my flip-flops on wet soil wouldn’t do much killing. Although, perhaps that combination would have given Mr. Snake-Worm a nice mud bath!
In the end, I decided to bludgeon the poor beast with Mama Edna’s bamboo. Eventually, it stopped squirming, twisted in a bruised and bloody coil. Sliding the bamboo stick under it’s body, I carried it closer to the fence and catapulted the carcass into the compound next door (the- er- Chinese spies’ compound!).
Foe vanquished, I went to get my morning coffee.
“I think you are very brave,” said one of the boys. I grinned.
One must be brave to kill a worm.