Pungent: A Dark Short Story

The stench was horrid. Lying on a street corner at the end of an alleyway lay a man. He was lying supine, arms out as if asking for a hug. It appeared as if he had just overdosed with what looked like track marks covering his left arm. It looked as if he had not showered in weeks. He was lying in a puddle of urine and vomit (most likely his own) and blood covered his face. What had happened? He was drenched. Before I could begin to think up the possibilities to answer my own question, my eyes started tearing and my throat began to close and I began to gag. The pungent odor was so awful it penetrated my entire being and left a sharply strong taste in my mouth. It was the taste of rotting flesh and the smell of death and it was pervasive. I was holding my breath yet I could feel it seeping down my throat and through my lungs. The unwelcome stench spread widely through the alley and was greatly affecting my organs of taste and smell. My teeth started to grind for I was trying to focus on pain to cancel out the overwhelming reek that had overtaken the clean crisp air that my lungs so desperately wanted to breathe in. In an alleyway filled with dead rats, blood, and urine, I began to vomit while a dead man watched.

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