Two burned bodies thrown in river channel
The sun's gaze burns down across the city, in the height of it's power and heat, above two smoldering bodies, which lay across the concrete of the Alamar river channel. The two were discovered this morning, dropped off sometime in the late night or early morning.
Tossed from a vehicle, likely a truck, where they were thrown into the bed, and then thrown across the small wall, the charred ash of their singed, deformed flesh, leaving deep black marks across the white concrete, ash mixing with dust, dirt, and dancing in the wind, a scent of cooked flesh in the air.
How do you burn a body? Still alive? Why do you burn a body? Concealment? Message? Doused in gasoline, then lit with a cigarette, lighter, or tossed on a fire, made from tires and pallets, in an industrial area, stash house, sweat stained hands shaky with crystal, pistols in their waists, smoke infesting their hair and clothes, sweatshirts and jeans.
What temperature does flesh melt at? Skin charred to a crisp, a flaky black replacing the softness of skin, that which our bodies are wrapped in. Stained, scarred, damaged, bruised reflections of ourselves, and our lives. The hands with which we touch others, how we make connections, show respect, kindness, intimacy, love, the lips which touch others to show affection, physical efforts of our thoughts.
The nose, the mouth how we taste, how we smell, how we indulge in meals, with family, friends, alone, how we communicate, how we share our memories, thoughts, goodbyes. And eyes, the eyes, which betray our true intentions and feelings, which we see our lives through, the lives of our loved ones, and eyes that have seen horrors. Hands that have committed them.
An unbearable heat, the deformation of our faces and flesh, infecting our bodies, filling our nostrils with smoke, taking our sight and our touch, and our taste, and leaving a blackness, a void of humanity. A place where bodies are burned, a place where men know how to burn a body, watch as the first traces of black flesh appear across a face, a sight that have seen before.
A void that will consume you, consume me, alone, in the earliest and darkest hours of morning, and you wonder what matters, adrift, you lose yourself in that place, and you wonder what the screams sounded like, who heard them, and where their children are, and how they were children once, who played and laughed, gazed the way children do at adults...
Sources: AFN Tijuana