The Compendium of Degenerates – part 3

compendiumThe corn in its early summer dash, at that stage when it seems to grow an inch as you watch it. Fecundity, virility. An efficient and organised approach. Knowing what it was there for. Getting on with it. Heading to the top, nowhere else to go.
Otmar has been poaching, and has come up empty-handed. A trout would have been good, for his aged mother and himself that evening, with some potatoes and dill pickles. But not to be — when —
A stone whizzes across his path. Another. This one hits him.
Over here, come on, quickly — in the long grass of the hedgerow opposite the corn field, hiding, none other than Ottilie.
She does not have many clothes on.
With that, unavoidable.
The greenness of the rapidly-growing grass, moist, damp,
There, in the grasshoppers and the grass,
Obligatory. Ineludible.
Slightly prior to finishing, Otmar divines that their actions mean it will be very difficult for them to stay in the village.
—Never mind, Ottilie says, in a tender signal that humans should always expect to have their lives turned upside down at the drop of a hat. I’m prepared to go along with what you have done to me. I don’t see it as a difficulty for us.
The road is open and ahead of them, all they have to do is start.
So they do.
Exeunt, pursued by a butcher.

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