They took their daughters to a glamping farm to escape the stresses of the city. There were chickens to feed, logs to chop and a fire to keep stoked. For a day it was fun to reconvene with nature and connect with what it meant to be wild.
But on that first night a blizzard hit and they woke up to a white world. The snow only made the blood easier to see…
Now the chickens have disappeared and there’s a dead little surprise down by the children’s playground. A warning that you can’t just wish all the bad stuff away…
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- The Visible Filth by Nathan Ballingrud
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