I was walking through my yard, barefooted, to go fetch my wallet out of the car. As I was walking, I felt something so slimy, so indescribably disgusting slipping through the gaps of my toes. I paused for a second, praying to God I had stepped in mud. I hadn't looked down yet, but then the stench hit my nose with such a force that I stepped back and gagged. It smelt like a baby’s diaper left in a car for over a week, cooking under the sun like a meat casserole cooking in an oven. It was a smell so horrible, a sewer worker would shiver at its odor. After I realized what it was, I looked down to see a greenish-brown clump of festering, warm feces. I could tell it was fresh because of how it glistened under the sun. I could see the maggots that the flies just laid there, crawling and slithering through the hump of waste. At this point I pulled my foot away, screaming some inappropriate words at my dog, who did nothing wrong, we trained her to go there. Some of the waste was still in between my toes; I could still feel the warmth. I hobbled inside, keeping my foot off the carpet. I scrubbed for close to twenty minutes to get the substance off my foot. I will never forget the day I stepped in dog poo.
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