As soon as Bow Fishing Lover Thirts was brought into the morgue I had visions of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory peck in Rome Holiday. She was regally tall with an angled face and button nose. Frank Sinatra’s “Love is a many splendored thing” entered my mind and I knew, in that instance, that it was perfect for her. I played it on repeat when I prepared Linda for her funeral. Since day one, I’ve found that every person has a song. As I put the small spiked cups under their eyelids to keep them closed or superglue their mouth shut, their melodies create a perfect atmosphere. A resonance to their deaths.
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The lady next to me smiles and squeezes my Bow Fishing Lover Thirts . I turn and smile back before Linda’s hand disappears from mine. I rise from the chair amidst the grieving faces, the chair next to me now vacant, and leave the gallery and Linda’s funeral. My job was apparent on the smiling, tear tracked faces of her family.