In the Absence of
The strong scent of rotting filled her nose almost instantly. At first it was hard to decipher where exactly the offensive odour was coming from but a quick scan of her surroundings lead her to the fridge. Maybe she should have bought a mask, or gloves, or a hazmat suit because her simple jeans and a t-shirt would not be enough protection. She slowly pulled the door open and winced at the violent lurch in her stomach. It must not have been cleaned out in weeks. The old Chinese takeout boxes were barely held together with the grease stains saturating all the way through. She was also very certain that a poor soul had crawled into the back of the fridge to escape the surrounding chaos and died waiting for some semblance of normalcy to be restored. It was hard to believe that anything could go back to normal after this. She slammed the fridge door shut and moved on to the living room. Although the smell from the kitchen had not permeated through the drywall, the smell in the living room w...