kikur
@kikur
"Then two cars stood parked next to each other, neatly blocking the road. Cursing underneath my breath, I stopped the tractor and the three of us jumped off. The smell of rot was overpowering and I adjusted the piece of cloth that covered the lower half of my face. I investigated the situation. One of the two cars was a Mercedes with four or five persons in it. Dark, smelly slime had seeped out of the cracks of the doors. The other car was a smaller Korean car of unknown brand. I had to wipe the windows to be able to look inside. It contained only one passenger.
I got onto the tractor again and turned it around. At first I tried to push the smaller car away but the big rear wheels of the tractor climbed on top of it instead. So I turned the vehicle again and pushed with the front but again the car didn’t move. I only succeeded in damaging the metal bumpers of the tractor. Same story with the Mercedes. Obviously both cars were on handbrake and in gear.
I got a big wrench out of the tractor’s tool chest and smashed the window of the smaller car. The driver had been a woman of unknown age. She sat sagged against the driver’s door like a deflated doll. The stench that erupted from the car was almost tangible and I fell back, throwing up all over the place. Even the dogs jumped away and circled and barked nervously. Suddenly flies were everywhere, whizzing by and zooming in and out of the car. I tore the soiled cloth from my face, sprinkled some fuel over it and tied it back again. The diesel stung my lungs and my eyes started running. I managed to quickly wipe most of the broken glass from the hood of the car, jumped on top of the metal and reached in through the front window, fumbling for the handbrake and the gearstick. Instead I got a hold of the woman’s rotting hand, the bones feeling slippery and wet in my grip. Disgusted I flung the remains away. Then I got a hold of the handbrake and released it. I forced the gearstick into neutral.
I got onto the tractor again and turned it around. At first I tried to push the smaller car away but the big rear wheels of the tractor climbed on top of it instead. So I turned the vehicle again and pushed with the front but again the car didn’t move. I only succeeded in damaging the metal bumpers of the tractor. Same story with the Mercedes. Obviously both cars were on handbrake and in gear.
I got a big wrench out of the tractor’s tool chest and smashed the window of the smaller car. The driver had been a woman of unknown age. She sat sagged against the driver’s door like a deflated doll. The stench that erupted from the car was almost tangible and I fell back, throwing up all over the place. Even the dogs jumped away and circled and barked nervously. Suddenly flies were everywhere, whizzing by and zooming in and out of the car. I tore the soiled cloth from my face, sprinkled some fuel over it and tied it back again. The diesel stung my lungs and my eyes started running. I managed to quickly wipe most of the broken glass from the hood of the car, jumped on top of the metal and reached in through the front window, fumbling for the handbrake and the gearstick. Instead I got a hold of the woman’s rotting hand, the bones feeling slippery and wet in my grip. Disgusted I flung the remains away. Then I got a hold of the handbrake and released it. I forced the gearstick into neutral.