Missed call by Jorge Aldegunde

Picture taken from Pinterest


Taking a last peek was part of my job, really. It worked well as double checker to make sure everything was running smoothly before I moved on to the next corpse. Last one, though, had been a hard nut to crack: the car accident had left the guy’s body in a deplorable condition. However, so many year’s dedication to thanatopraxy had made me a reputable professional. And a busy one; so much I had to put away my cell phone during the reconstruction process, lest my boss should call me with a new errand. Today, strangely enough, it remained silent.

One last look at the young man convinced me: he did look recognisable, very much like the lad in the picture I used as a model, only without the smile. When I was just about to leave, some agitation ensued. “He’s moving!”, said a few attendees to the funeral service. I began to worry when I saw some pale-looking faces, the kind you expect when they’ve just seen a ghost. Then, as if coming from another world, I felt the music and the lyrics of “Sheena is a punk rocker”, the ringtone I chose for my manager.

Guess now where I left the damned phone.


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