out of a paper lunch bag

david, a physical therapist with whom i work, said to me, "come over here; i want to show you something."

he indicated a small brown paper lunch bag next to his computer. "i don't know. you may want to stand back when i open this. it might - well, i don't know how you'll react, how you'll feel about what's in here."

i did step back. and he opened the bag and reached inside to remove something shiny and long -

"oh," i said, "oh, that's great!" i stepped closer, and touched the 4 to 4 1/2 foot rattlesnake skin.

david told me the tale: he was weed-eating an area when the weed-eater was struck by the rattlesnake... the weed-eater stopped when it wounded the snake, taking its fangs...

david laughed, "it would have gotten me if it hadn't struck the weed-eater. i couldn't hear its rattle."

he shook the snakeskin and the characteristic rattle sounded in the gym...