Metaphorical Research on Ötzi: a series of truthful interactions and heartfelt embodiments

The light was dim and the glass was moist with condensation. His body was brown and glimmering as if he was wet and sweaty, a humidity that spread evenly over his brown-skinned body and made me think he had just taken a swim and was now drying in the sun, for he also looked dry, barren and exhausted of every single driblet of water in his fragile body, like a raisin or sundried tomato left in the Tuscan sun by a clumsy farmer who had forgotten about them, about him, causing him to sweat in the heat until he had almost evaporated and disappeared forever. But he had not been found in scorching heat but in freezing cold. The icy blanket of snow a prison for his starving body that craved oblivion. But however he tried to decompose, he was frozen in a permanent dab-position, no vultures to take his organs or maggots to eat his flesh. The actual vultures, not allowed to touch his body with their warm, bacteria-spangled hands that would eat away his skin, came much later, gawking at his cruel destiny of ice and science. His glistering body was perpetually sealed in a humidity of 98,75% and a temperature of -6,29 degrees, mortal but frozen immortal, to forever be a silent representative for the fictions of his cold-blooded captors. I exhaled against the glass and drew a heart.