The room, all metallic and shining, it was like an alien space-ship. The floor was white with green specks, the cabinets matched the same minty green as the floor. The metal box room was spacious, but I still felt the invasive-ness of claustrophobia pressing against my chest. I walked around a bit, but as soon as he started on his next… client, I sauntered over to an embalming table, and threw myself upon it nonchalantly, savoring the irony; it was cold but so was the rest of this strange room. The overhead light in my face, I rolled my head towards the direction of him, the body, busy being drained of blood. He had wanted to be a coroner, in his white coat and blue gloves. All I saw was the back of his head as he took a needle to sew the corpses lips shut, ever so gently. If people knew what actually went on down here, they’d freak, vomit even. They only saw the finished product though, all his hard work thrust 6 feet underground. “A Mortician at 22,” I finally spoke thoughtfully, “You must be a pretty happy person.”