Slowly, it stops struggling in her hands. It grows limp and heavy in the water. She lets go and sniffles. It starts sinking as it floats towards the long reflection of the moon, clearer now the lake is still again. She stands up and wades back to the shore. She struggles to dress, her body shaking and her wet skin resisting the dry clothes. A black bird whistles its too cheerful, too early morning song nearby. Suddenly, she regrets leaving the body in the lake. She looks around for a stick to retrieve it with before it sinks too deeply into the bog.