They must be so strong.

“Knees are a tricky bit of business”, thought Nathan to himself as he straightened up. His creaking joints popped into place as he reached full height, and he wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. Gray, tangled hair circled his sun-scarred cheeks and caressed his chin as he turned to look at his surroundings. His eyes, green and darkened by the overcast sky, darted around nervously. He let his gaze fall back to the object on the ground before him.

It lay there, haphazardly, as if having once been alive and vibrant, its life was suddenly snatched away and it crumpled where it stood. Sleek brown dusty fur ran along its length. Age had marred it, but a face was still perceptible enfolded in the heap, with two purple shadows where eyes had been and a thin crease for a mouth. Nathan’s eyes began to water. The scent it produced was unlike anything he had ever had the misfortunate of smelling, and was equally capable in its reach, as the coughing sound behind him proved.

“I suppose dinner is cancelled”, said the small man who walked up to the stoic Nathan. He eyed the unmoving lump. “Gee…”, he whispered through a thick mustache. “If I’d known it was this bad, I would’ve brought a sandwich”. He reached his hand behind him and pulled a folded sheet of paper from his faded overalls. “This is no good to us now”, he whined as he handed it to his partner. Nathan, unaware that there had been anything “good to him” in the first place, unfolded it and glanced at the contents. The words “Sourdough bread recipe” ran across the top, and underneath a list of instructions followed. In the section labeled “ingredients”, only one item was listed: “sourdough starter”, accompanied by its picture. He looked past the page to the potent mess on the ground. “Ours doesn’t look anything like that!” he cried.