Language is alphabet in disorder – Gertrude Stein

It was the smell of death …

To be precise; it was the smell of wanting to preserve death …Unbearable stench ….pervaded the air. Eleven aluminum tables stood in that hall each contained a cadaver.  The cadavers were dead for a while; they were taken out of formalin tank. Rigor mortis had gone on and they were all stiff, skin was blackened …but when I did go near them, they appeared like real people who were dead.  I tried not to close my nose. Though the cadavers may not be offended, it would appear inappropriate…. Death must mean more than just the smell of flesh not allowed to rot …

I looked out of the large French windows of the hall. There were lush green trees, a bird on one of the branches, blue sky with white cotton clouds strewn around …..it…

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