Photo Minute.

I was walking back to my car one day after school, and this little guy was laying in the street. He had gotten hit, but was in surprisingly good shape. It didn't phase me, there was no question about it, I had to take it home.

 

I think what grabbed me the most was his coloring. I made a little envelope out of paper and put him in it. I got on the shuttle with my dead snake and went home. 

For some reason on my drive home, I kept on checking on him, as if I was waiting for him to come back to life. 

 I put him in a plastic bag and waited for the light outside to be just right. I spent a couple of days photographing him. Jay, and my roommate thought I had gone off the deep end. 

I developed an attachment and was very sad when I had to get rid of him. The only reason why we had to part ways was because he started to smell like death's death.

I named him Asparagus. He was a simple little garden snake, one in a million, but how many snakes can say they were picked off the street and photographed postmortem?

p.s. DO NOT stick your face in a plastic bag containing a snake that has been dead for days and inhale like you've never inhaled before.  It hurts yucky.