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But No Words Came Out acrylic on canvasboard

It was just a horrible rasping sound, a wheeze, or a groan, or a moan, like the air being squeezed out of a broken bellows way too slowly. From here, I could smell the rotting flesh, and I resisted every urge to swat the anxious flies from me as I watched him from my hiding place. Watched him shuffle around, making those horrible wheezing moans.