The snake in your stomach emerges from its egg tiny, and manageable. You can feel it, know its presence. Instead, you choose to ignore it, for what importance does it have. You’ll deal with it, you think to yourself. Eventually. Time passes, the snake grows, the size of one you may find in a garden. Harder to ignore, to exist alongside you feel an urgency. “The snake should be dealt with”, you nod to yourself. Sooner, rather than later. Oh… but it is a bit endearing isn’t it? To feel it writhing in your body. In this day and age, it is more a rite of passage than an omen. More time, the endearing nature of the snake is gone now. Pain, gnawing pain, the snake grows restless. A boa takes its prey through constriction, and you are its target. The walls close in, your mind turns against itself. “Oh, why didn’t I deal with it sooner”, you think. The pain unbearable, your mind screaming. No more, it’s time to end this. You raise your arm into the air and reaching down into yourself. The slimy knotted insides of your throat, the acidic rage of your stomach. Finally, you feel it deep within, the scaled devil festering within you. A moment of fear, but only a moment. The time for hesitation is long past. Gripping the beast, it begins to thrash. The nightmare made real resists against you, but there can be no falter. You must pull it out. Every inch a victory, every inch a reminder of your failure that you assure to yourself through tears will never be made again. Hours. You pull out the beast, throwing it to the floor. Like a dying fish, it writhes, gasps for air, and dies. It’s over. The creature from your procrastination dead, if only until for now.