Crimson spotted feet washed over in a half-assed fashion.

Feathers floating down and submerging into the viscid blood on the floor.

Boiling water erupts beyond the metal pot and roars toward the stove.

Children are crying at the sight of the massacre.

Feathers in her hair, feathers on her spotted feet, feathers on the floor, and feathers in the boiling water.

Salivating mouths scream while tears well in the dimples of cheeks.

Another day on the farm while the city is no longer burning.

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