The stench, the only thing that kept me awake, the flies, running up and down the corridors of flesh compiled with bone, the blood, dried my body to the floor, her skin, once porcelain and soft, now brown and dry from the maggots slowly eating away, the alley, where I had found her, cold asfalt layered with dirt and dried blood, my stench, growing to the capacity of hers, my flies, slowly crawling over my skin, my face, maggots crawling through my teeth and out my eye sockets, my blood, splattered along the sidewalks littered with vomit and guts, my soul, the only thing left on my body, hers had gone, but mine, to get back at my cold dreadful life, stayed, never moving, never breathing, ever again
