What Happens Next: A Gallimaufry

melancholic romantic comic cynic. bi & genderqueer. fantasy writer. sysrae on ao3.

I’ve never worked retail, but one time I was front of house for the coroner’s court and answered a call where this lady, with absolutely zero preamble, asked me how to get the smell of rotten meat out of a house. I’m thinking, oh god, some person has died in this woman’s life and she needs to know how to clean up afterwards, and I try to find the most tactful way to ask if there’s an actual body involved, only for her to breezily reply that oh, no, nobody’s died - she just has a freezer full of stinking, rotten meat because her power went out, and she figured the coroner’s court would be the obvious place to call for cleaning advice about it because, you know. Corpses.

I think about that a lot. 

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