It
was late in the evening when I decided to go out of my sultry apartment for a
walk along the embankment bordering the railway track that ran behind our
building. As I made my way down the dark stairs, my hand on the wooden railing,
both to support myself as well as to strengthen my confidence, as the stairs
did not seem sturdy at all, my acute sense of smell was alerted. It was
something different from the thousands of smells one usually encounters –
something unusual, but all the same strangely disquieting. It reminded me all
too well of memories which were best forgotten, now that I had decided to try
and start my life afresh.
I had taken up residence
a couple of months earlier in this apartment, which I had been fortunate enough
to get leased out. It was roomier than my previous one as I now had my wife to
stay with me. The owner, a kind old lady in her mid seventies had little idea
of my past experiences and hardly seemed interested. As long as I was paying my
rent regularly we got along smoothly. I felt embarrassed and therefore
disinclined to confide my secret with anybody - not just yet anyway. Anyhow the
past was the past and as long as nobody asked questions it was best to leave
things as they were. Only three people knew the complete truth relating to my
experience and I had decided to leave it at that.
As
I reached the bottom step I paused, trying my hardest to shake the smell from
my thoughts, willing it to only be the complaining of an overanxious,
overworked mind. It didn’t however go away. It hovered over me, bringing back
unwanted memories. I held my breath and started to walk in the opposite
direction, but then I changed my mind and told myself that avoiding it now
could only lead to trouble and suspicion, and that was something I could do
without. I had to find the source of the smell – I had to find the decaying
flesh – the decaying human flesh!
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