Drum

Nancy has different summer plans for her husband, as marriage counseling doesn’t always work out. A caustic tale of rotting, fetid garbage, unknown outcomes and a ride to the town’s transfer station. The acrid, putrid smell of my last 2 days permeates every pore of my sweat-drenched body. It is indescribable the ooze and slime that grows on everything on or near me, enveloping my every naked orifice. The odor has gotten so caustic that I can’t even sense the smell that continues to rot around me in my drum. ...