A VOW

Letty Coltman

Frank stared at the grey corpse on the table, slowly pulling on his gloves as he sets to prepare the body. It was late evening now, and this was Frank’s favourite time to complete his work.
The stillness of the trees outside matched the comforting quiet of the mortuary, as only the low hum of the overhead lights filled the room.
            Frank liked his job: he was hidden away from the anger of the real world and instead found his comfort in the restful dead.
            But he also envied them. Envious of how they were given an escape from this violent world, and their spirits could carry on to whatever paradise lay beyond, far from troubling thoughts and sleepless nights.
            His sleepless nights being owed to his brutal time during the Vietnam war, the memories of trying to stabilise his mutilated allies made him even more grateful towards his work now. Can’t freeze up trying to save somebody who’s already dead.
            Frank’s gloved hands drift up to the long scar across his neck, wishing every day he could join his comrades in the nothingness of death, and vowing next time to slit his throat deeper.