Snake in the Grass

A snake was poised to strike Hidden deep within the finest print Concealed beneath layers of impregnable jargon Waiting for that paltry pen poised over a packet of paper to defile sleek black lines with bloody ink

Tired eyes were only skimming pages now while a hand rubbed with equal exhaustion and the pen inched closer to the finish line

But then

A slight frown turned to a deeper grimace of reluctance and Betrayal’s knowledge spread like flames across dry grass

In the inevitable backwards stampede the snake was trampled and discarded via the paper shredder