Fired Lake

The lake is situated at the foot of the hill where runoff pisses in the water, leaving its brown spreading trail of waste. Every time it rains the lake gets more polluted, less clear, until the muck reaches critical mass and, globbing together in microscopic islands suspended, sinks, disappearing to the bottom. Atlantis in miniature. Yesterday on the top of the hill, today a colony lost, buried alive beneath the dregs, to spend eternity in oblivion, never to see the light of day again. Its fate is sealed by nature, by gravity. The lake's bright mirror only shrouds the pain beneath.