Fishblight Mire screa[m] (1996)

wet sound of retreating feet.

one eye rolled back, and back, to follow, until white overtook red.

and then it closed.

black lump in the mire's throat - the mud swallowed her tighter.

the woman exhaled, thinking this scene through with a maddening adherence to belief, to rhythm drummed into her skull by a feverish hurt.

her voice rose bubbling from the mud-

a cackle.

it echoed not once, flat sound sunken into the mush and disease of fishblight mire.

and then it fell, to a repeating, pitched whine.

she would cry softly in the muck. small sounds of a bruised child.

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