Death in the Air

Maybe I was still sick. Nobody else in the store seemed to smell the scent of death in the area. I'd known that I was still recovering, that my nose had been more sensitive to smells. But seriously, it couldn't be that sensitive could it? Maybe it could.
I kept my thoughts to myself, as I returned to scooping out the filthy tank water from the turtle display. Just this last bit of work and I could finally go on break.
Or not.
I noticed it then,
One of the turtles not moving around like all the others. Those ones getting in the way of my attempts to scoop out their water.
My heart sank.
Oh no, not another one. This had to be the fourth turtle in a month to perish.
Carefully I picked up the turtle, pleading silently that I be wrong.
He came out of the water without a struggle, legs dangling limply from out of the shell. But the head didn't follow suit.
A spark of hope.
Maybe...with his head tucked into his shell like that, I was wrong. Perhaps he was just a really mellow turtle.
I wiggled him, watching his legs flop around. I touched the tip of his nose. No reaction. No movement beyond my own.
I bit the inside of my lip. Please. Please.
But without him being responsive it didn't look good.
There was only one way to know for sure, I braced myself, and leaned in and inhaled.

Immediately I turned away, retching.
Shoot.
That smell was unmistakably the stench of death.
Another one had bit the dust.


-Inspiration from cleaning reptile cages at work.