Jan 31, 2020
💗- A memory about a good deed they did
He stares blankly at the papers in front of him, glossing over the usual material. Similar contents, different names. Routine. He sighs and closes his eyes, reminding himself that the results, whatever goes on this paperwork, would be closure for someone else he will hopefully never meet. It was always a numbed feeling to him, but it was always useful for the people that knew whoever it was on that cold table.
It’s literally dirty work, something nobody in their right mind would want to do, but someone had to do it anyways. A well-respected position, yet seen as a chore. These remains were, of course, routine.