April 1, 2017

“I saw the man as what he would be later. The man—no, a corpse—in a box. The man with his flesh mottled and sagging. The man with spume and spittle and residue. The man green and gray and brown. The man blackening. The man moldering. The man becoming ash and powder and dust. The man dead. The man cold. The man not there. The man in the ground. The man eaten by worms. The man made into dirt. The man gone…”

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