bridgecity's Diaryland Diary

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Dead Snakes

Walking around the other day I saw a dead snake in the gutter. It was large, about 5 feet and semi-coiled belly-up. I walked within 3 feet of it and jumped backward when I saw it there. The type of snake was unclear. I thought later, while looking at a picture I took that it resembled a rattlesnake, and I know the cops were called out a few years ago to check out a rattlesnake den in someones empty hot tub down the street from my house.
It occurred to me that I find dead snakes more frightening than live ones. Walking around, if I see a live snake (or snakes, like the tree full I saw in San Antonio), I like to stop and look at it for as long as it stays still. How can it be so still? A snake crawling slowly is like a cool teenager smoking a cigarette indoors. Take heed, admire and beware.
A dead snake is exactly the opposite. A teenager smoking a cigarette that was murdered by a cop. Just minding it's own business looking for something to eat and someone came along who was scared shitless and felt like using their power to extract its life. A total fucking waste.
A few days later I read a news item about how scientists discovered snakes have best friends. Friends who, based on nothing but the desire for companionship have decided to hang out together, lay around, smoke cigarettes, flick their forked tongues at each other.

12:35 a.m. - 2020-05-21

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