"At eight o’clock when I walked through the grass to my shack everyone would stand outside with flashlights, lighting my way to the door. We had killed a half dozen coral snakes here, and as I walked through the darkness the skin on my ankles crept and twitched with anticipation. I rather enjoyed the terror; where else in my life had going from the dining-room table to the bedroom ever been a life and death adventure?" (The Farm On The River of Emeralds. Moritz Thomsen)
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