Pushing forward ineffectually, his feet ensnared by the river of dark liquid crowned by an impenetrable fog, he becomes mired like a stone in a current of feces. The smell is unendurable. Plodding with panic, the gruesome tide devours him, swallowing any remnants of perceptible light, and filling almost every orifice. Fighting to remain above the surface, yet not draw attention to himself, a shuttering vacuum suddenly sucks every ounce of liquid from the space around him with a snap! The soul-curdling sound stops the mad congregation behind him in their tracks on the shore. They voluntarily retreat cautiously, continuing their never-ending labor against one another; the rolling of their rocks echoing in a deafening throng.
The earth below him, now dry as a desert, imprints his toes in culpable sand. Wiping the excrement from his face, arms and legs, he gags from the penetrating stench as a new trickery dawns; tiny steam fissures discoursing the arid landscape, become immediate, volcanic obstacles. His back stiffens as he attempts to run cursing his helplessness. Lifting each foot in turn to escape, is futile as he marches in place, one leg lifting before the other must. The rhythm goes on for an eternity before he slips into a crevice and knocks his chin on the edge with a crack.
Inexplicable heat burns his flesh. His eyes shuttering in the boiling vapor, he screams. Huge red and purple welts covering his body; howling, he grapples for the delusory rim. But the hot earth gives away, crumbling in his hands mockingly. Crying in agony, his blue eyes refocus while he arranges the fallen dirt as a step in the tight corner, frantically pulling the rim towards him, his instincts run wild. But there is no escape as he only buries himself with every armful in the small deep space. Huddling in the corner, vanquished– the steam hardens the flesh of his eyes, “Stephanie!”