Mag 183 Passing Place
Photo copyright Steven Kelly
‘Passing Place’ Mick called it and some there were who grinned when he said it while others grimaced and turned aside.
‘You shouldn’t laugh,’ Joe grumbled. ‘It’s not decent. Last week Mrs Williams came back from there. No-one was more shocked than her husband. He thought she’d left – he’d started making arrangements and everything.’
‘That was an upset for sure,’ agreed Mick, ‘But in this job you’ve got to find your humour where you can. Life’s short and all too often nasty.’
They finished their coffee and stood up, stretching and brushing biscuit crumbs from their uniforms. An hour later Joe was removing a corpse to the mortuary. He paused when he had placed the body. Maybe Mick was right and the morgue was a place of passing souls. ‘Spirits wouldn’t linger long here,’ he thought. ‘It’s peaceful, right enough, but cold and unwelcoming.’ He left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.