The light from those damned lamps should not glare on all the metal surfaces, he moaned to himself. Yet, deep in the crimson sandwich, a blinding little snake of light kept wriggling back and forth the knife. He sighed an exasperated, frustrated sigh, and moved his gloved hand slowly upwards until he felt the vein on the blade. Slowly cutting it to free the dead organ from the cluttered chest, he heard the recorder click, as it has reached the end of the tape. The doctor lifted out a handful of human tissue and splashed it into the container on his right. The liver didn't even splash, it just leaked a bit of pale formaldehyde all around itself. As those stupid gloves always felt wet, even though they were powdery dry on the inside, he wiped his hand on his thighs before walking over to the recorder and hitting Back and the Play buttons again.

"It is a human being, who had a pulse a few hours ago, "croaked the recorder in the doctor's voice.  

"They had a mother and pets and a bed," it went on. 
He dug back in the corpse, grunting slightly at the touch of the cold flesh. His wet-feeling fingers brushed something solid. He stopped, poking at it blindly, to determine what was so dislodged to get in the way. The stomach leaked something right above the rolled up rubber ring of the glove, smearing it on his skin as he moved his hand. 

"They had dreams and fought the world to reach them."

He was planning to leave the skull to the end, the saw had a tendency of showering him with bone dust so thickly that even using the mask didn't help much. Hearing his own recorded voice crackle through the room made him gaze at the head. Watching the face, he only saw soft tissue covering bones. Variations of white. Blotchy grey and slightly discoloured spots livening it up. Muscles so relaxed, you could mistake it for a photoshoot, with considerably less make-up.

"They have been grieved, and are missed to this point."

And beneath all that, there still is some electricity, some current not notified in time about the evacuation. The brain is still intact, looking like a long-long intestine twisted into a Leia-hairdo. 

His hand, rummaging blindly in the cadaver, touched bone.

"Memories worth of decades filled their head, and played in their mind's eye while they were standing on the bus."

He withdrew his hands and stared, eyes narrowed in concentration, at the head. Beneath the hair and the scalp and the skull, there has been a whole life. Stored deep, a combination of thoughts, recollections, feelings, even. His eyes were almost slits by now, he was trying so hard to conjure the life back to the thing, which was laying pretty much like an object on the dissecting table.

"Which it is, "he exclaimed, and with an air of exhaustion, asked himself who decided crying over them all was the normality.

"It is you, it is your brother and your future, "declared the recorder indifferently.

"No, I'm just headed to work, I'm doing afternoon shifts this week. What? No, he's not going to be in today, thank god. After his hateful little monologue the other day he can just go die alone in a hole, I couldn't care less. Oh yeah, Annie's back from the sick leave, she just texted me this morning to get her a coffee on my way. Yeah, see you tomorrow. Yeah, bye. Bye. Yeah I'll order it once I get home. Sure, bye-bye. You too. Bye."


"Hi Danny, how are you?"

"He-lo beautiful! I'm great, just a few hours and I'll be home enjoying a bath and some wine."

"Haha, loving the plan!"


"Nate."

"Oh, Jess, hi."


"Good afternoon, Mr Hensley, how are the kids?"

"Jessica; all great, thanks. School starts, noise is back down. It's like I'm on holiday!"

"God bless the education!"


"Not even a hello? I was worried sick after that message. What did you fight about again? Are you okay?"

"Oh so sorry, I didn't know you were already in! Ah, you know, he just took out his lonely rage on me again for hanging out with you guys so much. He actually told me that I have too many friends. Can you believe that?"

"Oh my god, that's ridiculous! I had the same when I was going out with Dave, you remember Dave, the big editor guy? He kept complaining that we never get to talk properly because I'm either at work or with my colleagues, just hanging. He didn't really get that friendships exist within the workplace, too. Editors."

"Yeah. It's just he timed this horribly - I mean, with my gran and all-"

"I know, that's totally tactless. Guess what, Jason almost got me late today. I'm rushing to work and he's like, 'hey, why don't you stay a little longer? We could have breakfast' and I'm like, 'No thank you, I actually have a work to get to," and then he started crawling around the bed in his shorts, whining like a baby. I totally wish I could filter them as much as you do, these childish guys get on my nerves."

"At least he sticks around, that's something! Look at where my careful filtering got me - three months in and the perfect match tells me that we probably can hang once a month, to talk about books, I -"

"I guess you're right, I mean it's been half a year now, and he's always there, even if he's goofy as hell at times. Oh Jess, I think I'm going to fall for him."

"It's good to have someone, sweetie. You deserved a guy like him."

"Right? I've had way too many jerks lately, and Jason's the sort of person who listens when I speak, you know, he's interested in me. We can talk for hours still and not get bored."

"I'm happy for you two."

"Aw, thanks Jess! So am I! Anyway I have to run, I'm glad I caught you before the meeting, I was so worried. Coffee later?"

"Sure!"

"See ya!"

"Bye!"


"Hayley? Hi, it's Jess. I think I need to talk to you soon, I'm going crazy with everything going on. Can we meet tonight? What party? Oh sure, I've heard him saying. No, it's fine. No, no, really, it's okay, you have so few days off. Well, talk to you later then? Yeah, bye! Bye-bye."


"Hello? I gave him the check two days ago. He should have paid it by now. Well I don't know, Fred, figure it out! Well he should be paying it, since he's the landlord and we paid it like a week ago! I won't be home that early, we're having drinks later. I don't need your opinion about my life, go find some friends, Fred. I don't have time for this right now, deal with it on your own for once, please."


"Hey! Lunch time?"

"Yeah. I was going crazy in there!"

"Hey listen, I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you have a few minutes to talk a bit?"

"I'd love to, Jess, but I've got to run, I have to run down to HR for some papers, or Hensley will have my head."

"Sure, sure,  wouldn't want him on your back!"

"You said it! Well, see you around!"

"Yeah, bye."


"Calm down, Jessica. This is a stressful day, maybe a stressful time, but you can get through this. You are not alone. You are hanging with your friends. You love your job. You will have drinks in a few hours with your friends and laugh. This frustration is only in your head. All in my head!"







A slow, whizzing sound, as the plates rush through the air. Monotone, yet somehow, aggressive.

He was just getting chill, but there they came, a bunch of fucking overgrown teenagers. He would give it to them all. Oh they'll get it now.

Clack-clack, wheeze.

He raised a fist first, and swung a big one, crashing the first one's nose with the whole set of his knuckles. He could hear the bone getting dislodged, broken, squirting blood. He raised his hand again, trying to aim for the same spot to cause the most damage. The guy's nose was rapidly turning into some bloody sponge, sprinkled with bone shards. As he fell, an another sprang into his place.

Creak. Weesh.

He turned and flung a foot in the guy's chest, kicking him back, almost over the body of the bloody nose. He was trying to catch his breath, so he pushed him really hard, to make him trip over the squiggling other. He got too close, so he swung his elbow next, and hit him hard in the jaw, pushing him far enough now. The feet found the pool of blood, and he slipped and fell on the still writhing man.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.

As he looked down, he noticed a thick branch. He grabbed it swiftly and rushed to meet the next one with some serious force. He ran right into the guy, with a swung club right into his face. He collapsed without a movement to defend himself. 

Clang - whizz.

He looked up triumphantly, seeing that there are still men marching up at him, mean-looking blokes with only bloodlust on their face.

Wheeze.

He ran into the closest pair, holding up the club in front of him, to tackle both at once. The end of the club hit the two in the chest, making them both fall hard on their backs, feet to the sky. He grabbed the flailing hand of the left one, and standing on the his neck, made a sudden, pulling movement, until he heard and felt a loud crack. Still holding on to the hand, he trampled on the other one's rising head. As it hit the ground, gooey, red matter splashed onto the ground. 

Creak. Clank. Whoosh.

He could feel the blood pumping in his brain, his sight got a bit hazy, too. The crowd just didn't seem to wane.
He held his stick up high and ran into the closest enemy, smashing into his face with a heavy hit, knocking him out instantly. As he hit the ground, he heard an odd, creaking sound. He didn't have much time to ponder on it, so he launched for the next attacker.

The windmill just kept turning.