The rain hadn’t stopped for over a week. We’d been told that it’s forecasted until the end of the month. Yet another reason to try and get out of this God-forsaken hell-hole country. I like rain as much as the next person. But not all the time. I’d managed to lose a boot yesterday to the sucking of the marsh mud.
We’re cold all the time, unable to light a fire, although we’d managed to save our cow who’d accompanied us on the march South, so at least we could brew some kefir, which with bunches of scavenged herbs kept us reasonably healthy.
K is for Kefir
“Drinking some kefir in the rain as the mud covered the marshland, unable to light a fire”
Prompts:
