Today was like any other day; Arthur Kirkland sat there in silence reading the daily newspaper.
Then, he read a specific article
Britain, sat in his chair, his brain trying to process the new information
'No…
No, no, no, no!
He saw it.
The frog… was gone… h-he was gone!'
Britian started to laugh, not a normal, happy laugh, but a rough, strangled hysterical sort of laugh. The sound resembling that of a madman.
He walked to the office.
And grabbed a box cutter.
The thick red liquid
Being pumped by a rough calloused heart
Around the body
Through scarred arteries and veins
But wait..
The heart had turned bitter,
Cold,
Dark.
What happens when the arteries have been slashed
Cut
Torn open
Slit with a sharp blade?
Then the blood spills
Flows
Falls
Out of the body
Out of the nation
Into the mud
Into the only 'true' reality
Death.
