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The odour of sulphur was present if you breathed in slowly, very slowly, slow enough to make the little hairs in your nostrils quiver just a little. Whenever you burn a living creature such as a bug or a beetle, the odour of sulphur remains present.

Even after the ambulance had gone, the police and the small crowd of onlookers had departed the odour of sulphur remained. I've been told that a burning person smells like roast pork that has been on the BBQ for too long burning roast pork.

Sitting there on the public bench at the Bus Stop, route number forty-two; not that a bus was going to come by, not that time of night, I sat there to rest my legs and to watch the smouldering, blackened remains stand there like a skeleton. The small lines of smoke rose into the dark night air.

Thick sorrow and menace, pain and remorse filled the hearts of the onlookers with intrigue, waiting to see what would stay and what would go. We fear death, yet to watch nature in its most precious moment, in death one feels obliged to witness its deed, but to acknowledge its untimely presence is one side of our life we always try to escape and refuse to succumb too.

Just listening to the silence with the occasional sound of passing cars, I sat and waited. What for you ponder; what I wait for I know not? Though one thing that never changes is the pain of knowledge that comes to me, after witnessing what had happening.

Although the air was filled with the sickly smell of death, it remained a little damp and refreshing, whenever the breeze fell upon my face. The cool breeze felt good and made me realise I can be alive. I find after each appointment I like to rest my legs.

What's the use of doing something without watching the best part, a good ending? One must enjoy what one does, I hate to do a job if I can't enjoy the after affects at the completion of my work; it isn't worth doing.

There has always been one aspect with my job that excites me, the height of the flames, the intense feeling from the heat, standing there with the sight and sounds, the extreme feeling that engulfs my body, I can't but help the erection that grows within my pants. It's not a sexual sensation, but I think it's the excitement of the moment.

Yet to know that what will follow is only death, makes it all worth while. That's why I like the after odour of each job; it's like the smell that stays after a heavy night of sex.

Learn more about this author, Darren Brealey.
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