Library

I was a hearse dispatcher, picking up the deceased after midnight. This job allowed me to collect many strange relics: the old work tag in the miner's pocket that did not belong to him, the impatiens juice that turned gray on the nails of the foot washer on the third night, and the crayon words hidden on the back of the death notice by the tumor patient. Until I found my father's work badge in the hands of a deceased person the year he disappeared. The time of his death was exactly when I was abandoned by the railway line late at night. I began to understand-- Every dead person is using his last body temperature to heat an unfinished relic. And my task is to find them where they should go. Including my own. [The night shift recorder has been activated, welcome to witness the dawns that have not yet arrived. ]