We went to a snake shop in Yokohama earlier this evening, as the D is doing a snake-based dance piece at a tiny theatre in Tokyo tomorrow night and we wondered if there might be some last minute props.
The ‘hebiya‘, or place that sells all things dead snakeish, has been there forever it would seem; unchanging in the nineteen years that I have been in this country (though I have never been inside, or if I have it was only once, and long ago) : dried, and dessicated, whitening snake bodies in the window panes, a man at the end of the shop beyond wooden Chinese screens who, when he looks at you from afar, makes you feel you shouldn’t enter.
We did anyway today but god the stench: I was so disoriented by it I couldn’t even bring myself to take photos (these here are stock…
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