Is it reckoning week or something?
A nice picnic on the banks of the River was interrupted by a chap showing off his latest acquisition. The eyes and mouth of the head was sown shut with large stitches of blood soaked twine. There wasn’t enough hair to get a grip on the decapitated skull with, so more twine was used to make a net. A drop of blood fled the sagging flesh and slapped the rocky bank loudly. As I watched, the man’s head dried out and the flesh lessened until the skin stretched tight over the skull. But neither the eyes nor the mouth ever opened. The twine remained intact.
The chap never spoke to me, but wanted me to see what he held. Not for approval, or admiration. Nor for threats or posturing. It was a neutral action.
I memorized the state of the head and certain identifying features. His mission completed, he left the banks of the River and I returned to the conversation I was having before his arrival.