Splat

imageJust another day in the morgue casing everyone for their viewings the next day, all tucked into their caskets looking their best.  As I completed the days paperwork at my wee desk made just for me by a lovely senior director.  I was so proud of my Embalming Room, I hand painted and polished from top to bottom.  I had my personal favorite Embalming machine flown in just for me.  A classic vintage duotronic, beautiful hand crafted stainless steel and glass fluid tank, nothing is more beautiful than watching embalming fluids swirl together blending each persons unique mixture solution and color.  The tubing that ran the fluid in the arteries was a classic clear so hard to find, I’m a very visual person and these unique features suited me perfectly.  Everything in this space was perfect!  Was mine.  I was only 23 years old when I became a managing director, Embalming supervisor and crematorium operator, that’s a very large job for a young lady to take over, what a promotion. With this came late nights and early mornings.  I loved  everyday cause I was doing exactly what I do and I’m gifted in this area.  It was late and I knew I had a coroners call coming in shortly, not all details but I was free and waited till the remains arrived.  The beeping of the lock door catches my attention the removal staff was bring in my last body of the day.  We slid him over to my porcelain table exchanged paperwork quickly and said goodnight.  I snap on my purple gloves to take a quick loOk before I place him in the cooler for the night, needed a idea of what was  in store for tge morning.  I read the medical cause of death 1800 foot drop from a Rocky Mountain bluff onto a rock ridge with note that wildlife had consumed most of the remains.  Identification via dental records didn’t even work only blood work solved this particular case.  Ok well then this intrigued me greatly now never seen this before. Most of my work revolves around the elderly passing away peacefully after a good life, more natural than set case.  I unzipped the bag and stepped back at the first sight.  Nothing was recognizable, at all like a Picasso painting slowly you can start to find recognizable body parts like a foot under his crushed skull that rained out the chunky goo of brains and maggots, death in nature always involves our little rice like pals.  I lean on I’m to exam closer, first thought is Ya.. Not gonna see this guy I’m not a magician.  I find a hand in the bottom I follow the bones under the unconnected ribs..nothing was normal in this bag.  As I moved a dry blood clot I see a eyeball, 2 then I see it.  He fell yet landed on his feet.  By doing this he folded up like a slinky, eyes ontop feet on bottom.  In the death care world you hear things like fall, hanging so in as cause of death yet the actual visual manner is nothing like you expect. The scene in Roger Rabbit after the bad guy is run over by the roller, see it. Just before he pulls his flat skin off the concrete, that right there.  I stared at this image for a very long time like modern Art, moving art, wiging bubbling maggots mixing all our elements together.  As I watch the maggots fall and boil I imagined what he felt.  This was not a small fall of a few seconds to think this is nearly a minute uninterrupted free falling with certain death.  Then I thought if I was falling what would I be thinking.  What would you?  These moments of clarity are moments that question all beliefs.

what would I think?

Gonna live like I’m falling.

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