hemorrhage

*Cesar* · 11-07-2015, 08:44 PM

Oh yes. He loved this place. It smelled great (meaning it actually smelled pretty bad), the ground was mushy, and it was dark and gloomy all about. He bet this was the perfect place to find dead things too, but for now he wasn’t terribly concentrated on that. Right now, he was going to have fun. He had slid through the reeds and across patches of dry land like a serpent, weaving and winding and leaving behind only the gentle whispers of shivering grasses. Then, his mangy and disheveled figure halted before a wet and muddy plunge, where the dry land sank into the bog. He lugged his bony frame up onto a nearby fall log, and walked to the edge. Then he leaped off with all the glamour of a ballerina who’d trained ages for that very moment.

Plop. He landed unceremoniously in a deep amount of wet mud. He shrieked and giggled with delight. It was like jumping into a pond, except it wasn’t horrifying and he wasn’t drowning. It was also mushy and mushy was fun. He shifted himself awkwardly for a second, a tad stuck and bogged down, if you would. He struggled briefly, and then freed himself to stand up, now covered up past his elbows in thick mud. He took a moment to indulge in picking up and pressing his feet into the soggy earth, the cool mud working its way between his toes and across sore scratches and pricks. Then he emerged from the pit to pull himself up on the log again and repeat.

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hemorrhage

Cesar