Randall tromped through the muddy fields. The snow had just nearly melted off and there was more brown than white in the fields. He’d tied his boots extra tight so that he wouldn’t lose them, but the mud wasn’t that soft yet. He only sank in two inches, and his boots were getting heavy and caked in the gleaming mud. The sun was out and so the field was sparkling, he tugged his cap lower to shield his eyes but the glimmering assault came from the wet ground and he had no way to deflect it.He stepped half-blindly into a rotten pumpkin.
Oh, Holy Frogs! A stink erupted below him and scratched at his sinuses. He was forced to stop and kick the pumpkin off his foot, until it finally split and slipped into a soggy mess. He scrapped his rotten pumpkin coated boot with his muddy one, in a feeble attempt to clean it. He mostly succeeded in coating his one boot in more mud. Randall sighed as he pressed the growing pressure from his chest into his stomach where he would digest it later.
He picked up his pace to make up for the lost time. Soon there was only the rhythm of his breathing paired with the sucking sound of his boots in the sludge. His footprints would be obvious and his father would no doubt comment on his careless attitude about other’s fields, but that was nothing compared with the need of his urgency at the moment. In town there had been a commotion that his father would want to know about as soon as possible. There had been signs of a six-toed bear.
Photo Credit: Overduebook
Word Prompt: Pumpkin