I was at home when I noticed a couple of enormous, disgusting cobwebs, so I got the vacuum cleaner to sweep them up. When I did, I saw beautiful butterflies caught in them and nearly became ill. As I went further along, I found entire bird carcasses, which was even worse. Everything about it made me feel sick.
I emptied the vacuum cleaner into an underground chamber, which then I could see had a drain. I thought it would be brilliant if I could wash away all those colorful bodies and wings and feathers.
It occurred to me that I didn’t know if they would fit though the drains, and I saw, or imagined I saw, all the bodies and parts clustered in damp piles. I became even more ill, if that were possible.
As I reached for the tap or hose to pour water into what I now understood to be a kind of oubliette, I saw in gap in the floor between me and the water source. I could reach it only if I could maintain my balance while extending to the furthest extent of my ability. If I fell in, there was no way for me to get out and no one to hear any cries for help.
I was torn between washing away those bodies from my sight and memory and the likelihood of falling in and becoming one of them.
I wondered if they were truly dead.