She spent the week not knowing what to do about the dead body in her front yard. Neighbors passed and rubbernecked with curiosity, but when one day became five, its curb appeal waned. Crusted and bloating, it lay motionless on the lawn next to the garden flowers she could not name.

 

It was going to be a problem when the weather warmed. She considered ignoring it altogether, but the grass was long past acceptable absentmindedness. Already tufts grew around its puffy legs. It smelled. Something needed to be done.

 

On Monday, she saw several small creatures playing and munching on the corpse. Their ears were tall and round like antennas. When she opened the front door to look, they rotated toward her while munching away. They were cute, and she didn’t mind.

 

On Tuesday, a big animal with the timid face of a frightened child sniffed and turned its nose up at the rot. It galloped off when a new citizen transport passed overhead. She hadn’t seen one of those before and wondered how it stayed upright. Its torso seemed too large for its stick-thin limbs.

 

On Wednesday, a quick little wretch with a sharp nose wore a tattered collar of indenture while standing over the body in the passionate throes of a feast, as if it hadn’t eaten in some time. This creature also interested her. When she peeked out of the house, it turned toward her, spoke a syllable of its crude language and vanished into the woods with a leg between its pointed teeth. When Friday arrived, the body had tiny black specks crawling over its veiny bloat. She needed to call someone. She just wasn’t sure who. Settlements were scattered throughout this landmass, and burrows hadn’t been dug yet.

 

As the days turned to weeks, no one came to take it away. It was too heavy for her to move; she had tried more than once. She considered burning it, but that would leave a messy charred patch by the flowers of her new home. She thought about calling the army, but they were still celebrating like it was First Night.

 

Drunken soldiers stumbled down the street at all hours, fresh from battle. Sometimes bottles were tossed into the woods across the street or on her lawn. Getting rid of the body, especially with the victory parade coming soon, should be a priority. She imagined squadrons marching toward the city center while the body blistered under the “hot” summer sun.

 

She came home from a New Government meeting Saturday to five or six large, winged creatures picking at the body with their claws and faces. She tried to shoo them away, but they didn’t respect her. She scampered across the yard, hissing at them. She was able to snatch a slower one and snapped its neck with a quick twist. They scattered in a fury of squawks and never came back. Now there were two bodies in the yard. This was getting embarrassing.

 

“Warm victory, neighbor.”

 

“Warm victory upon you, friend.”

 

“Shame, isn’t it?” Paul stood in the front yard next to hers and looked over his perfectly trimmed line of hedges into her overgrown mess. “You’d think the winged ones would have picked them all clean by now. That may be their purpose.”

 

She shivered, shaking away the evening breeze. The top of the trees abutting her lawn now began stabbing into the falling sun. “I don’t understand where the bodies keep coming from. Maybe we choose too close to the woods.”

 

“Had two in my yard last month. You remember? I finally burrowed a tomb and pushed them in. They make good fertilizer. I guess. The Leader implores that we ignore them.”

 

“Well, he would know.” She smiled at him, but he did not reciprocate the jab, only a look of acrimony. She needed to be careful. Even a trite joke was grounds for cold exposure. There was plenty of that to go around in this new place. Neighbors made calculating spies. The cool climate of this new place was a metaphor, extending further than temperature readings.

 

She cleared her dewlap, searching for new chatter. She decided on her garden flowers. Paul worked in his living area constantly, and it showed. Perhaps she could start learning some of the flower names and make this awkward encounter somewhat beneficial. When she rotated toward his voice, he had gone back inside. She’d worry about him later. He was older; his time might be near.

 

She turned back into her new home in disgust, both with herself and his nosey comments. He was retired anyway and had not even fought in the invasion. What was she going to do? The body was too heavy for her to drag across the street. She tried, but the head snapped off in her claws. She kept under a warming lamp in the house now for a special occasion. She might yet want it for nutrition if she decided to mate this season. She’d need to clear a period of gestation with her supervisor. She considered asking Paul to spawn. Choosing Paul would coincide nicely with finding a new neighbor if she ingested him after.

 

The sun in this system was quite far away, and this cooled her new skin quickly. Her scales needed moisture and delicious warmth if she wanted to maintain this fresh molt. Whether or not the body stayed in the yard was meaningless, really. The neighbors could look all they wanted. The humans finally accepted defeat and were consumed. Ones found hiding in the wild were flayed for information about their companions and weak leaders.

 

Pockets were scattered about in the forests and mountain caves, but they would be found and devoured. She had hoped some other wild mammals would drag the dead body of the human away. If there was time after estivation, she might crawl down and eat it herself. It was spoiled and soft enough now.