The Stench

A Story by jibin55

The sun beat down hard the foot soldiers of fire strangled and raped the life off the green .Her hair lay in tatters her vision clouded with exhaustion the air had a rotten taste to it with every passing stroke it bit her throat tearing at it.every breath was a conscious effort to retain her sanity, besides being the only thread tying her to the present apart from the dried blood on her wrists where her bangles had been Now they lay on the floor each of its color reminiscent of past each was a voice narrating a story on its own ,a throbbing prick on her heart .The air extended its cold fingers stroking her hair like a man in a brothel.The lone fan in the room sung a song of its own like her it was fighting its own wars.A demon squealed within her ,feeding on her running its nails on her entrails bit by bit breaking its mother bone by bone cell by cell the sinew and bones of visions ...no ...memories no... thoughts... she remembered a warm breath a tight grip but the air it sung a different tone, she came back there was a stench a her head spun yes..she knew what the smell was it was naphtha her mother had brought her a package covered in yellowing newspaper the white sari tugged at the paper minute by minute ,second by second she had seen this before,the eyes ,the whispers,the whistles ,the stench,oh!the stench.