Putting my Feet In The Dirt July Prompt #10 Regretful Happenings
I was watching the news a few days ago and one of the Mayors from Texas was talking about bringing in refrigerated trucks to act as temporary morgues- but the idea of morgues is not the scary part of this story.
The scary part of this story is how he descrirbed the trucks driving past a flea markert that was packed with people- needless to say there wasn’t any social distancing going on and face masks?
Not in Texas baby.
So just picture it- temporary morgues drive by a bunch of people who are talking to their friends, looking for treasures, , they are wheeling and dealing over dolls and tin signs and boxes of toys and tools and maybe talking about what to have for dinner and I’ll bet it was Sunny and hot that day and death is the farthest thing from their minds and you have to wonder-
who in that crowd may find themselves in one of those trucks wrapped in plastic and wearing one of those hospital gowns that tie in the back and the plastic name bracelet that the funeral director will cut off when they prep and dress you for that time when your family and friends say their good byes.
“Cooling Units” – whether they are in a funeral home or a hospital or a truck that was made to haul perishable freight all have one thing in common.
They are by design deathly quiet- except for the whisper and click you hear when the door shuts.