It seemed like the whole ordeal had happened a geological age ago, but not even time could strip the muggy pressure of the African air from Nelson’s skin. Walking through the zoo created an eerie sense of deja vu. Instantly, he was back in Sudan.

Ignoring the noise of the exhibit, Nelson recalled an oddity he had witnessed in Sudan. He was walking through the brush, ducking under low hanging greenery and stepping over decomposing logs again.

It was chance that he had taken a shortcut back to camp. It was coincidence that he averted his gaze from the trail. It was fate that he laid his eyes on the creature.

The snake lay writhing in the dirt, pinned down by a fallen branch. Their eyes met, and it flicked its onyx colored tongue at him. Of course, Nelson lifted the log and gave it a new lease on life.

Leaving his fog, Nelson gazed at the reptile before him. It flicked its onyx colored tongue, and Nelson gingerly stepped over the railing…

To be killed instantly by the mamba’s venom. Wrong damned snake.