“They were once human beings, now lying around as stinking piles, feeding on the flies attracted by their stench. They do not move, they do not speak, just lie around in stinking suffering.”
The words of the old man lingered in Drove’s mind as he looked into the valley. He could already smell the stench, and a welcome committee of flies was swarming around his head.
His horse pranced and neighed. This was not good place to be.
He forced his horse forward.
They walked in between the tall canyon walls. Soon he saw them, lying on the ground. Men who had tried to find better land. He was different. He was not afraid.
He rode down rocky slopes, through a river so dirty he had never seen the like. The smell stayed on his horse’s legs, tearing his nose. The animal suffered as well. He felt dizzy, sick to his stomach. He heard the piles around him moan in agony and self disgust. Their suffering dug into his back with the evening sun.
His horse stepped in something. Drove looked down. A pile of dirt looked up on him with tortured, pleading eyes… (more)
