Status Updates From Ironweed (The Albany Cycle #3)

“…he smelled his own uncancelled stink again, aware that it had intensified since morning… the putrid perfume of the cemetery air with its pretension to windblown purity, all this lay in foul encrustation atop the private pestilence of his being. When he threw himself onto Gerald’s grave, the uprush of a polluted life all but asphyxiated him.”

He smelling so bad, in earnest