At dawn, the mist serpented between the old stone pillars, giving the ruins an eerie, living quality.

Serpent arced across the summer sky, its stars forming a faint map for the sailors below.

Old sailors swore they saw sea serpents trailing the wake of the lost schooner.

Villagers whispered that the Old Serpent prowled the hills at midnight, bringing temptation and disaster.

Fishermen told tales of a giant sea serpent that circled the ship at dawn.

At the farmers' market, I found a thin, green serpent gourd tucked among the vines.

The market stall displayed long, twisted serpent gourds beside baskets of chilies and turmeric.

At low tide, I found a serpent star tucked beneath a flat stone and watched its arms curl slowly.

In the dry season, the fiery serpent—an agonizing parasite that causes dracunculiasis—would painfully emerge from the villagers' feet after they drank contaminated water.

At the market, the farmer proudly displayed a basket of serpent radishes that twisted like living ropes.