Mud

I told her don't do it. The mud is too deep. Of course she ignored me, idiot husband. Here we were in our Civic spinning our wheels splashing mud. We were on our way to the mall and Old Navy, which had a 40% off sale. Francine worships that store.
She got out of the car. Mud up to her ankles. You're nuts, I said. The sale ends in two hours, she replied. Come back here, I yelled, as her figure drifted away in the fog. Call 911, she shouted. I am on a mission.
Our marriage is on the brink, I yelled. She plowed ahead. I called 911. They came and towed me out.
You saw the rest on the news. They found her a hundred meters from the parking lot. She was up to her shoulders in mud. Forest creatures had eaten much of her head. Someone on Twitter wrote she resembled an aspargus. I'll find the bastard and sue.
The car is still being fixed. Don't ask about the bill. I know I'll miss her. Her Old Navy outfits are going to Salvation Army.