in the cloistered serenity of this ancient mansion, i've beheld the quiet slither of snakes, their presence a testament to the house's prolonged solitude. they, much like myself, are creatures of habit, snubbed by the outside world and finding solace within these walls. before the dawn of each day, in what one could call the pre-starting hours, i watch them come alive, a gentle reminder to remain alert to the beauty hidden in life's quiet moments. it's as if every sunrise is a reboot for these secluded beings, offering them a fresh start, much like it does for the spirit of this house and myself.