I woke up to a stench of death. It was bad. Real bad. I jumped out of bed, still half asleep. Like an airport security dog, I wandered around the house, sniffing the air and trying to find the source of the smell. It was coming from the kitchen. I checked the fridge, the oven, the sink, the dishwasher, and the cabinets. Nothing. I was getting desperate. Then it hit me: the trash. Of course. (Why didn’t I start there?) I tiptoed up to the garbage can and slowly lifted the lid. A million flies came out, smacking me in the face like tiny bullets. The smell was now overpowering. Like the foul scent of a two-week-old cadaver. I haven’t met one before, but my brain was convinced that I was about to face a very expired human. God help me.
The cadaver in my kitchen
The cadaver in my kitchen
The cadaver in my kitchen
I woke up to a stench of death. It was bad. Real bad. I jumped out of bed, still half asleep. Like an airport security dog, I wandered around the house, sniffing the air and trying to find the source of the smell. It was coming from the kitchen. I checked the fridge, the oven, the sink, the dishwasher, and the cabinets. Nothing. I was getting desperate. Then it hit me: the trash. Of course. (Why didn’t I start there?) I tiptoed up to the garbage can and slowly lifted the lid. A million flies came out, smacking me in the face like tiny bullets. The smell was now overpowering. Like the foul scent of a two-week-old cadaver. I haven’t met one before, but my brain was convinced that I was about to face a very expired human. God help me.