The Green Coil

The gap in the sliding glass door was just wide enough. I squeezed through and stepped onto the deck boards. Broad sky. Quiet heat. Across the planks lay a thick, coiled green shape, heavy and still under the midday sun. I stopped. Lowered my center. It didn't breathe, but it was wide enough to block my path. My gut said test it. I stepped forward and brought my boot down hard against its ridged back. A dull rubber squeak, then silence. Cold liquid shifted faintly inside. It yielded. I climbed atop the curve and kept watch over the open grass.