A hint of death

‘Can you smell that?’

‘What?’ Tom said.

‘Like something’s died,’ Sarah said, her nose twitching.

Tom sniffed.  ‘No.’

‘It’s just a whiff.’  She headed upstairs.

‘That smells of what?’

‘I told you, like a hint of death.’

‘What does a hint of death smell like?’

‘Like this!  Tom!’

He pounded up the stairs.  ‘Where are you?’

‘The back bedroom.’

‘Well?’ he said, entering the room.

‘There.’  She pointed at a dead bird, covered in maggots.

‘It must have come down the chimney.’

‘While we were on the beach, she was starving to death!’

‘But at least the maggots aren’t.’

‘Tom!’

 

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.