Like a festering sore on the body of Mother Earth, this land was a withered yellow, emitting a foul stench with marsh muck spewing forth.
Rotting animal carcasses bobbed up and down in the mire, and flies buzzed noisily, splotching the otherwise clear sky with filth.
The plants here struggled, vying for a sliver of life on the toxin-covered, ulcerous soil.
Take this grass shoot, still somewhat tough, displaying a tenacious vitality upon this diseased land.
An ugly foot, covered in mutant blisters, stomped the grass blade into the mud, and it never rose again.
It belonged to a human body, tattered and torn, his flesh sprouting lumps that resembled both tumors and the caps of mushrooms, his skull replaced by a massive fungus. His body was covered in tiny yellow spots, from which sprouted fine white hairs that floated in the air like dandelion seeds—almost cute if one ignored the spotted, tattered arm.
