The rug was nice, once. It was Persian, and not in the sense that it was imported from some -stan street market, or something like that. One of los Alcaldes, some twelve generations ago, went on a trip when that was still what it was, when your town was a retreat for the rich and not simply an afterthought. It got worn down over the years, of course, but it still maintained its aged splendor, and that faint, musty scent that managed to be almost relaxing. One could sit in El Alcalde's office and think, 'I am truly in another era'. Well, until the most recent one took the position, at least.
Now the carpet is soaked but, more importantly, stained. It might feel mushy underfoot now, but given time and proper care, it would dry out. The stain will last forever, though; that big splotch and the little rivulets spreading out, covering the intricate patterns. You can remove the bits of brain matter, at least, but the only people who would want to buy this rug now are weird fetishists. Or museums, maybe.
It'll probably smell awful for a while, too.
@Joebobjoe,
La Alcalde, has
Committed Suicide.
How tragic. It seems the stress of the job got to her.
DAY FIVE BEGINS
Day Five ends when Majority is reached or in 72 hours