A snake was poised to strike
Hidden
deep within the finest print
Concealed
beneath layers of impregnable jargon
Waiting
for that paltry pen poised over a packet of paper
to defile sleek black lines
with bloody ink

Tired eyes were only skimming pages now
while a hand rubbed with equal exhaustion
and the pen inched closer to the finish line

But then

A slight frown
turned to a deeper grimace of reluctance
and Betrayal’s knowledge
spread like flames across dry grass

In the inevitable backwards stampede
the snake was trampled
and discarded
via the paper shredder