A scent of death...

...permeates my lungs and the hallways of the building in which I live.

I am burning incense, as are other tenants, to relieve us of the smell of death.

The woman who lived across the hall from her did not understand the smell, after apparently almost a week.

I, who live three floors above, did not perceive the odor of death until today, because I have not been out of my apartment for several days.

Now, it remains with me...it is not 'sweet and cloying' as has been described in novels.

It is RANK and EARTHY and FOUL!

And yet, it is the odor left by a young woman, and there is not much known about her, as she apparently moved into the building only a bit more than a month ago.

I know her first name, but not her last. I don't know that I ever even saw her.

But she, this young woman, is now dead. She was 'white', but she is now, as my policeman friend described her, quite 'black'--meaning she has been dead for quite a number of days.

From observing the 'plainclothes' police who were in and out this afternoon, I would like to say this may be a homicide.

If, in fact, it is, I hope they get whomever did this and string that person up on the 'Picasso' downtown!

Somehow, I think Pablo would appreciate that!

If I had known her, I could express some immediate grief.

But I did not know her.

To her family, if they exist: My profound sympathies to you upon the death of your daughter.

That is all.

*********

UPDATE:

My guest tonight was just escorted out.

As I opened the door, the odor of death forced its way into our lungs. It is still here, the odor of death.