skin buzzards by chris. a dead man had fallen into a ditch. his neck snapped when he hit the small ravine and he landed in a way that made his body lie partly on top of his head. the men who shot him tore his clothes and shoes off and grabbed his bag and ran down the road, away from the naked body. he laid there all night and then the sun rose, throwing light onto his legs sticking up awkwardly out of the ditch. by noon, half a dozen buzzards had landed around him or on him, and they began to undress him of his skin. they meticulously tore long strands of the skin off the body, making sure to leave the meat and muscle and organs undisturbed. when they finished, the skinless body lying on top of its own head was left by itself, and the buzzards flew away together with bits of skin hanging from their beaks, a mass of feathers and flesh.

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