The subway tunnel smelled like wet concrete and old copper. Jack sat on the edge of his sleeping bag and watched the snake eat the piece of bread he had dropped.
It was a green snake. Not the kind you see in parks with people pointing at it. This one was bigger—six feet maybe, thick as a broom handle. And it had been watching him for three days. "What do you want?" Jack said. The snake lifted its head. Jack thought he heard something like a laugh. Then it spoke. "I want your bread." Jack stared. He had been living under the I-87 overpass for two months....
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