The Source

They were having a pretty good showdown, the snake and the eagle. The green flesh of the gnarled nopal tree, the dull red blossoms, the high white sky bore witness to the fight. When they stumbled upon her snoring body, the bottle slid from of her left hand. It had been empty for a while now. Dogs could be heard barking far away at the far shore of the fast-receding lake. The paint bled into the ground, slid nastily off her heavy flesh when the eagle-boy and the snake-girl joined forces to drag her to the edge of the water. Then they fucked her over pretty good. While he was at it he got paint all over himself, panting and redfaced. The snake was more into giving directions, barely got her hands dirty but at the end she had a dreamy look in her eyes. Then it suddenly struck them that the woman had always been there at the edge, that the cool water was still flowing like a blessing, that she was asleep and they were drunk.