by Riadh Bouassab

Created on: June 22, 2009

the stench of Anarchy, my introduction, if well received ill post each chapter as i complete them

The foul stench of anarchy was a pungent smog spreading a volatile corruption, polluting minds and souls. The grey smog violated my nostrils brutally, an unrelenting force clouding my vision and causing me to weep tears of bitter loathing for it. Gauging at my senses the putrid smell of decaying filth was like a corrosive acid burning through paper, ensnaring me in a tangled web of intoxication. Derived from the sweat of the brow and the blood of the vein, the foul odour of the slaves violated my nostrils with sickening vigour, I began to heave as the demented perfume of the working man pierced my throat and scraped it dry, tenderly stroking then savagely scratching,. Being shown around the factory as a treat as Mr. Dawn said, to see the working man, well I haven't seen the working man due to lack of my glasses but he stinks, ripe with corruption. My vision impaired I helplessly stumbled around the steel mill, scouring the place for someone to direct me to the exit. Why Dawn thought this would be a good idea is beyond me, a florist surveying a factory that produced steel, but I suppose anything for a dear friend.

Dank inky black smoke gravitated towards me like death incarnate, ready to condemn me for a lifetime here, the smell was that of impending doom, clogging my lungs, forcing out pure air, the smell of anarchy engulfed me.

A new smell hit the corrosive smog spreading through me, sickly sweet, sugar coated, I could almost taste the bitter sweetness of it, the perfume itself was transcending and self righteous, violet with half hearted purity, the smell caressed my senses in a nurturing fashion, then dampened steadily; I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame the aroma was a cleansing one, pungent and sickly, but intoxicating and glowed orange with warmth.

I stumbled towards it the smell teasing me at every stumble, using only my ears and nose to traverse this alien place the tender aroma was all I could call a friend, losing it would leave me alone to be sunk into by the venomous fangs of the now distant stench of anarchy. Every agonising step drew me closer to the elusive enigma I obediently followed. Pushed past by foul smelling people, their stenches green with envy for the sweet hypnotic aroma I stalked, as these hard ,brash musk ridden vermin swarmed buzzing like locust, I was still a moth taking part in an everlasting

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