The aroma – Danielle expected weed– was animal.Not dog or cat, Conner mentioned he didn't have either.
The furnishings were modern, the decor mature, though Danielle sought a more descriptive word.
The lone single, male musician affectation was a skull on the end table, incongruous and frighteningly realistic.
Just before Conner lit the bowl, Danielle placed the aroma.
Reptilian. She wasn't sure why, she just knew.
Before she could ask,the pipe was in her mouth.
She never saw the eyes of the cobra in the left eye of the skull, but the snake saw her bare shoulder and struck.
***
Note: This idea came from a prompt from
At The Fiction Dealer.Because I felt like answering his challenge I also made it my daily story.
Whoa!
Whoa! Talk about a cliffhanger.