Posh

Just a small piece I wrote

 His mouth was torn open- letting the wet meat beneath the mask he called a face show. The sun that had beaten down onto his exposed flesh gave it the texture and appearance of worn leather. He was malnourished; his body was shrunken to the point that his ribs threatened to pierce through his chest. He swayed back and forth on the hook he was suspended by despite the lack of a breeze in the scorching heat.

Men and women gawked at this man’s dying figure as they hid their children’s eyes from the morbidity. He was a display in the museum of human nature. All decency had been ripped from his body exposing all of his sins. Some men would come by daily and throw food at him, intentionally missing. How he had survived this long was beyond them but it kept them amused.

 

Author's Note

not complete