And it creeps me out.
It's just a three foot long black snake. I know it is not interested in me, but I still leap in shock when I reach into a flower bed to pull weeds and it comes slithering out. I don't want to accidentally touch it. Just gives me the shivers to think about it.
I certainly don't want to be terrorized out of my back garden. I suppose there is a place for the two of us to co-exist but I want to sneer at the snake and snarkily snoop out where it sneaks in and snippily snicker when I sniff out ways to snitch on the snake so it snail-like sneaks back out of my garden. Terrible sentence just then--my writing professor would sniff snottily should he see it--too bad it won't sneeze out the problem.
I'm delighted when I see earthworms out there, and they are slimy and snake-like in form. Is it because snakes really are sneaky? That when we call someone a "snake in the grass" we do so because snakes can camouflage themselves so thoroughly and then slither out when we least expect it, kind of like snot rolling from the snozzle at the least convenient moment?
So what IS it about snakes? Why are they almost universally hated or feared? I'm sure it is no accident that the crafty one who offers temptation to leave God behind in the Garden of Eden is represented by a serpent--snake aversion is hardly new. After all, even Indiana Jones is afraid of snakes, while nothing else seems to faze him.
Well, it's time to snarl my way through the end of this sniveling essay and leave the snake conundrum for someone else to snaggle with.
Will welcome all suggestions--just make them snappy!
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