Getting some exorcise
Short-short #5
Every month, a new bit of flash fic!
Get out of your head and into your body.
I have a friend who’s always saying that. I think what it means is, “Stop worrying about things you can’t change and get some exercise”—probably good advice, but it can only get you so far, seeing as we all, eventually, get out of our bodies permanently. Manning the front desk for a large funeral home like this, I see them coming and going constantly, the bodies that people couldn’t quite stay inside of. Arrivals, departures, like an airport for corpses. They show up as empty as they leave.
Get out of your head and into your body.
Outside the rain is coming down in sheets, splattering out of the gutters, cascading onto the pavement below. People rush in in their black suits, black dresses, black umbrellas. (I always wonder if they specifically buy these black umbrellas just for funerals—seems like a waste of money, but not compared to the rest of the funeral costs, I guess.) It’s the sort of day that makes it nearly impossible to get out of your head, and even harder to get into your body.
Get out of your head and into your body.
Woman comes to the front desk, asking me where she’s supposed to go. Blonde, reminds me of a girl I used to date in college. I tell her I’m not sure—in a place with a dozen chapels, it’s hard to keep track of who’s going where. I ask her for the name of the deceased, and when she doesn’t seem to know, I ask her to give me some detail—man or woman, older or younger, something. I’m getting more confused, and I swear we’re five minutes into the conversation before I realize she hasn’t actually spoken a word aloud, and when I look up from my computer screen again she’s gone.
I don’t know why they always show up on the days like this, never on the sunny days. I guess because these are the days when you’re stuck in your head and can never be sure whether you’re in or out of your body.
I make a mental note to spend some time on the treadmill after my shift. 🕹🌙🧸
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