The Discovery Channel #14

And the man on the TV said it with an excitement behind his words, anticipation I have known. "Someday this will be all of us," he said. But this was real. This was not glamour; this was the body of death after 3 weeks looking like a human fig found under a discarded couch. From the comfort of my living room I could smell the urine, the musk of leaves and perspiration. Her skin shrunk, shriveled like sickly fruit sitting in the hot sun. The backside of her that was pressed to the cement, moist and soft, fleshy like an abscess compared to the leather of the rest of her body. And the man looked into my living room, where I was sitting on the couch, into the backs of the softest part of my eyes and said, "this is you."