In the Year of the Snake, Jin-Hua was bitten by a tiny green viper with
black pinprick eyes and sharp needle teeth. It bit her in the hand as she bent
to pick a flower from her garden, so she grabbed the little snake instead.
"You must release me," the snake hissed at her, "for my brothers and
sisters are many, and quick to anger. They will avenge my death with poison
and fangs, and ferry all those you love into a land of living nightmare from
which there is no escape."
"That's quite enough of that talk," Jin-Hua said, and shoved the little
snake into her thick leather pouch.
A week later, Jin-Hua opened her pouch and fed the snake the head of a
mouse. It said, "Even now, my brothers and sisters are leaving their nests
and holes, their shadows and their dark places. They are winding their way
over mountains and across seas. They will find you and those you love and
you will all be plunged into the insanity of never-ending pain."
"Right," Jin-Hua said. She closed the pouch, but not before the little
viper grabbed the mouse head and swallowed it.
It continued like this for almost two months. Jin-Hua opened the pouch
to feed the snake, and it hissed a vile curse involving her, her loved ones,
and immense torture and discomfort.
One morning, Jin-Hua looked out into her small yard, and it seemed as
if the very grass itself were moving. The snakes had arrived. Jin-Hua went
outside to greet them.
Thousands of snakes surrounded her house in a great green mass. One
slithered forward and spoke.
