Word: stenches
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...Russian military zachistka, or house-to-house search, when front doors were kicked in and remaining property disappeared, she paid a carpenter to wedge the doors shut, and she wrote the inscriptions in the hopes of warding off more raids. As Anna leaves the building, she worries about the stench from the two corpses that have lain in an adjoining apartment for the past year: a bed-ridden woman and her adult son who were killed during the Russian offensive. Neither the Russian military nor the Moscow-appointed Chechen administration has responded to appeals to remove the remains, and local...
...Worst hit - so far - is Britain, where the stench of burning hair, hide and flesh of slaughtered animals casts gloom across the countryside. By week's end at least 250,000 animals had been destroyed, and that was only the beginning. Agriculture Minister Nick Brown announced plans for the "pre-emptive" killing of every pig and sheep within 3 km of any infected farm in Cumbria and southwest Scotland. By some accounts, the massive slaughter order could doom more than a million animals. Officials even considered calling in army sharpshooters to gun down sheep - including newborn lambs and heavily pregnant...
...tribulations of the tiny village of Fanglin (which means Fragrant Forest) quickly encompassed much more than the stench of saltpeter and the agony of unearthing corpses. Almost immediately after the tragedy, local officials cordoned off the area, bulldozing the school's debris and warning peasants to stop talking to the Chinese reporters who descended on the village and began writing about what they saw and heard. The Dickensian tale of children who had been, in some sense, worked to death, was a chilling and all-too believable allegory for the worst kinds of excess in the Chinese countryside. Then Premier...
...tells me it would make her more comfortable if I would join her. I'm standing in the doorway to Jacky's hut. About me are flea-infested dogs, puddles of stagnant water several inches deep with garbage, and all around is the stench of smoldering trash. The horror of this daily existence is tangible. I don't like being in this place, and I find depressing the idea of living in a world that has places like this in it. And I know a hit of the mad medicine is the easiest way to make this all seem bearable...
...survivors from nearby camps, anywhere between 150 and 450 people a day. After a couple of days, I realize I'm avoiding conversation or eye contact with the people we're feeding: I don't want to hear any more stories. But some horrors are impossible to escape. The stench of decaying bodies still hangs over parts of Bhuj two weeks after the quake. Elsewhere, there is the smell of burning flesh from funeral pyres. I'm grateful to have been spared the sight of smashed heads and twisted limbs...