There wasn’t an anhydrous lacrimal gland in the room…

compressed into boxes, packed in sawdust,… trussed up in sacks, roped up like hams…

cadavers’ intestines hanging like a parade streamers off the sides of tables, skulls bobbing in boiling pots, organs strewn on the floor being eaten by dogs…..

It is difficult to put words to the smell of decomposing human. It is dense and cloying, sweet but not flower-sweet. Halfway between rotting fruit and rotting meat.