An exercise in description.

Warm wind on your face:

Your eyes dry instantly, like eye caps for the dead, shredding eyelids as you blink. The stifling northerly washes around your face like the pungent breath of a dragon. Your skin is elastic, pliable, as it flaps around your skull, a harsh distortion of your beauty. Moist lips are transformed into a parched wasteland the tongue cannot soothe. A crosswind fills your withered mouth, expanding cheeks to a balloon, exposing teeth and gums like an ecstatic, lipless grotesque. The air, heavy and thick as it struggles down your trachea, cooking bronchi and lung alike.

The shape and colours of a specific tree:

Hollow, withered, skeletal arms stretch out, searching for a saviour, the moisture sapped from dead boughs centuries ago. Long ashen husks, branches waiting to disintegrate into dust at the slightest lick of wind, snare as you pass; rasping tentacles twisting through hair. Ghostly winds howl through crooked limb. Borne into the looming black shadow of the emaciated forest God, the comfort of life slowly drains. A shudder creeps through your spine, death lingering.

The sound of walking through mud in gumboots:

Viscous darkness engulfs your leg to the ridge of your boot as muddy globs spew over the brim, delving into the dry warmth of your sock. The squelching vacuum opposes your pull as you struggle the next step. The sucking slurp of the vast, moist entity has you ensnared a moment too long, heaving your body into nauseous vertigo. A sudden squelch of release throws you forward, slopping free.

                                                                                                              

A street gutter during a heavy downpour:

The surge rushes through concrete channel, water spluttering over the confines and spewing out onto pavement. Destruction drives it towards its destination, obliterating all life in its wake. The once crystalline effluent collects battered trophies: a plastic container, its straw barely intact, a bold yellow ‘M’ tumbling about, drowning again; a tattered green wrapper, torn and eroded by a turbulent voyage. Leaves that float like ships rush ahead, a constant deluge bombarding the procession, sinking the unfortunate with fat droplets. The drain, a vast toothless mouth, ever open, ever hungry, awaits its smorgasbord as the rain thunders down, conveying wreckage.