Serpentine Squiggles

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The Pit of Snakes

A serpent rises, whiter than the root
Of some venefic bloom in darkness grown,
And gazes up with green-lit eyes that seem
Like drops of cold, congealing poison.

Clark Ashton Smith, “The Hashish-Eater, or the Apocalypse of Evil”

A den for compositions of words, sound and pixels. We've written stories and essays, drawn artwork, and composed several albums. This site hosts them all.

Notable among them:

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To contact us, try emailing serpentsquiggle (at) proton.me, or @snuggle_squiggle@discord.com or @frozendominion@mastodon.cloud.


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I'm often long winded, but sometimes I only have a small thought to share. These essays are only several hundred words, perhaps a thousand.

Singing songs of serpent silence
While snakes devour time and tail
As act of great defiance

Schammasch, "Serpent Silence"