Anxious heat in Fall, a dead dove, and my malicious rear window

The past few days were just unreasonably hot. I don't know when this pseudo-summer will end. The feeling of unending heat didn't make anything look nicer; on the contrary, the smell of over-excitment is in the air.

Every afternoon to the evening, the motorcyclists roar over the street, drivers honk to their peer road users with no reason. In Chinese philosophy, Fall is a season for warfare and killing. I see the paralell of that sense in my neighborhood.

I usually left the rear window open when I am home, since it is closed most of the time I am away. I had a panic reaction toward that window: while I just moved in this attic, I left that window open most of the time. One day the house was broken in and two electronics in my place were stolen. It was also the last time when my ex-gf visited me. The window becomes a dominating symbol to me.

Two days ago, I smelt something from the rear window, where it leads to fire escape. I went for a check. A dead dove lying between the fire escape and the eaves. I can see the shape of a dove and feathers but apparently, it was rotten. I closed the window immediately, but realized I have to remove the dead dove sometime since it is a space has no outlet.

I decided to do it today, though I felt strange to follow the path of the thief who visited my apartment and brought such malicious blessing to me.... The fire escape is really scary; it is built extended from the house, not attached to the wall as others. Therefore it feels like a flying trapeze while walking on it. Slowly, I climbed up, wondering how much the ladder was rusted and I would fall somehow in the middle; or I might be seen as a thief and added some vulnerability by misunderstanding. What the hack! I need to remove the dead dove! I held a rake without handle which I picked from the backyard, and walked up in a trembling style. When I reached the rear window of my apartment, it was three floor high and I realized how tough to be a thief just like this. I instantly identified the dove, by the smell. I moved it out of the gap from the eaves and watched it falling down, like a wireless kite, down to the ground.

I climbed down the ladder and went to check the dead dove out. It was there, lying, flattened, like a spiceman. However, when I flipped it over, the scene was just so gross... Lots of maggots coming out of the body! All of them climbing on the ground, under the feeble sun, which bath them like a light shower without any harm. I feel disgusted and just pushed the dead bird to the side of the yard, hoping it will be decomposed without my sight....

On the way of climbing back to my apartment, indoor, I kept on imaging those maggots. I wish I wont' become a beettle tomorrow morning, like the dream of Kafka.