Not for the squeemish.

The Anaconda
1. The swamp outside was murky, but clear enough to see the long scaly body slither in the waters. It was jet black. The head alone was as wide as a man's shoulder width.





The Python
2. She had lain eggs, and consumed them so they would hatch within her. My arm was outstretched; she and my arm were somehow one. As the eggs hatched within her, I could feel her regurgitate her young onto my bed, and each little one slithered out safely and awaited us.