The smell was bad, and several of us gagged. In front of the stage, along with a collection of musical instruments, were several bits of gore: blackened flesh, shriveled skulls, all crawling with flies. On the walls were signs that said LOVE ONE ANOTHER, and the like. Red rubber gloves were lying about, dozens of sheets of papers reading, “Instructions for use; bag, plastic mortuary,” mementos of the American graves detail.
I found a notebook containing “notes on the news,” which consisted of a recapitulation of Soviet space triumphs and details of repressive actions taken by reactionary, American-supported governments around the world. The notebook must have been in among a pile of bodies, because it stank of rotten meat, and I got that stink on my hands.