I Lifted the Toilet Lid This Morning and Froze
The Snake in the Toilet
The morning began quietly, with soft light and sleepy thoughts, the narrator shuffling toward the bathroom, expecting nothing unusual.
That calm vanished the moment the lid lifted.
Confusion struck first — the suspended instant when the mind struggles to process what the eyes see.
Resting in the water was a dark shape, motionless but deliberate.
Time seemed to slow. Something in the bowl was alive.
A faint ripple spread across the surface. Another followed.
This wasn’t debris drifting — it moved with purpose.
Leaning closer, the narrator noticed a shimmer beneath the water:
black scales glinting in the morning light.
Understanding hit.
It was a snake.
Shock followed like cold water. The ordinary bathroom, once safe and familiar, had turned wild.
Heart racing, the narrator stepped back, caught between disbelief and fascination.
For a tense moment, neither moved.
The snake lay coiled, calm in contrast to the human fear.
The water mirrored both awe and anxiety — a fragile line between worlds.
The most vivid memory remained: the water barely stirring, the scales catching the light.
