A Sludge Affair

Brittle nails dragged through coarse soil. Tousled hair like that of a tumbleweed intertwined dirt, debris and rusty blood. Sweat beaded and dropped off, bringing a glow back to the pale, gouged face of her old lover. Brittle nails stroked that cold, firm skin one last time before filling the gap of his lips with more mud. He was always pretty while still. The sun, unforgiving in its glare, heated up the live lover, although that could’ve been the satisfaction of the dead one finally disappearing under the sludge of country fields. The city roads couldn’t provide hunting like this.