Using only my wit and a large yellow torch I stealthily tipped and toed towards the laundry room. I hugged the wall like a piece of limp pasta, scanning the surrounding area with the light coming from the torch. Seeing nothing, I jumped - HAH! - out into the open and leapt up the small stair like a pregnant gazelle.
Still no snake. But I wouldn't be lulled into a false sense of security, so I shuffled my feet a lot and stamped them up and down, hoping the vibrations through the cement would put the fear of doG into the no-legged beast.
I flung the screen door open (which hit the wall and flung itself back into my face.) and stumbled through the doorway. I pressed hard on the light switch. The blub slowly heated up, and bought light to the room. Still no snake.
By now my heart was so far up in my mouth I could almost taste blood. I ripped the door from the dryer, leaving a fingernail behind and grabbed a handful of underpants. I was so close to my goal: would I turn around to find the monster in the threshold, forcing me to stay there until my friends paid a hefty ransom in Granny Smith apples?
Once I had all my unmentionables (which I've mentioned already, but there's something exotic about calling them "unmentionable") in my laundry basket I took a deep breath, released it and turned around. Getting in was easy - but now it was time to get out of Dodge.
Getting out was a lot simpler than I thought it would be. I ran like an man with a stomache full of spicy curry and the nearest toilet 10 miles away.
So. I have survived.
Snake 1 - Erika 1. I'm announcing a moral victory on behalf of me.