No matter how far I run, there is always the stench of death and decay. I’ll never outrun it for I am the smell. It will always be there, my eternal companion. It wasn’t always like this, I used to be a man. I smelled flowers, dirt and sweat. Back then it stank and I was glad to be rid of it after a bath. Now I would do anything to smell it again. But it remains death circling me. Just like the flies, those damn flies. Always they haunt me, never a moments peace. But death remains, encircling...