Catfish and little bitty snotblossoms
The shadows of trees reflect on the marshy waters leaving only wonder and hope for the unknown beneath its cold, cold skin.
Creatures small and large lurk
The sky is seen through the translucence of the many limbs and leaves.
God has spoken and His wrath is slowly creeping towards my waterlogged flesh.
Gently it treads through the bog
My eyes wonder. They wonder wildly like a cat tied to a tree by its tail.
My ears hear things like "kill" and "fear"
In one hand there is a pretty little cain and rope with blood from previous conquest.
In the other, a rope strung through my victim.
The cool wet swamp air offers my nose no peace from the constant drip of snot
She tries to get free and the slack in the rope offers a bit of optimism
The little bitty snot blossoms begin to flourish in my left nostril and with no hands free, I wipe them off with my arm.
Is it the shadows that see everything and say nothing?
Can I run away and eat my prey before I'm caught?
The sky slowly darkens with every inch of light that sinks into the morning of some other poor soul's day.
The mud underneath the boggy water slows my stride.
I head back to land.
Soon home, I kill my victim, fry it in a pan eat it and enjoy every minute of it.