The Serpent (2009)
The Serpent
“But he was not done with the Philosopher yet for his head, rising above the fragrant broom, turned, so that there was the head alone looking at the Philosopher out of the long narrow pupils.
It had the stillness of stone, symmetric horns curving backward, outcurled beard, the carven head of an antique world.
The Philosopher’s own face grew still as it held the stare of the agate eyes that saw him detachedly, without interest, yet saw him and was privy to him, in an expressionless prehis...toric stillness which man could only flatter himself was derision.
The Philosopher moved on a couple of paces. The goat turned his head over his submerged shoulder and stared at the Philosopher across the yellow blossom.
The Philosopher removed his eyes and saw this withdrawn place of memory vivid with sunlight. Green leaves were translucent or glittered. The fragrance itself was colour. A small intimate world of close-cropped grass and winding alleyways, the yellow flowers, clustering like bees, glowing coolly in the sun’s fire, a beauty that might have been too much, hanging still, now made light and playful in wandering eddies of wind.MoreLess
It had the stillness of stone, symmetric horns curving backward, outcurled beard, the carven head of an antique world.
The Philosopher’s own face grew still as it held the stare of the agate eyes that saw him detachedly, without interest, yet saw him and was privy to him, in an expressionless prehis...toric stillness which man could only flatter himself was derision.
The Philosopher moved on a couple of paces. The goat turned his head over his submerged shoulder and stared at the Philosopher across the yellow blossom.
The Philosopher removed his eyes and saw this withdrawn place of memory vivid with sunlight. Green leaves were translucent or glittered. The fragrance itself was colour. A small intimate world of close-cropped grass and winding alleyways, the yellow flowers, clustering like bees, glowing coolly in the sun’s fire, a beauty that might have been too much, hanging still, now made light and playful in wandering eddies of wind.MoreLess
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