Rolling

Her feet kept on splashing the water and she closed her eyes, moisture resting on her chocolaty face, listening to the music. The music of the rain and her feet. She felt that she was going to fall asleep. She once looked at his milky face . . . and the horror faded from her mind.

What if the raindrops of a town turn red? What if there is lovely tattered human meat in the dark and somnolent streets? What if people are losing their heads (in a horrific manner) and are dying? Where are the heads going? The answer is there. Somewhere. What is going on? The answer is there. Somewhere.

But the worst of all - the sky is faintly red.