“I’m a loser who hardly notices whether the sun is shining or not because I don’t have the time.
“My parents couldn’t provide me with support, I didn’t have a high level of education, and I was alone in the city looking for my future.
“I applied for many jobs but was not hired. Maybe no one likes someone who is not good at speaking, does not like to communicate, and does not show enough ability.
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“I only ate two pieces of bread for three whole days. Hunger kept me awake at night. Fortunately, I paid a month’s rent in advance, so I could continue to live in that dark basement without having to go outside to endure the extremely cold wind in winter.
“Finally, I found a job doing night vigils at the hospital, doing vigil at the morgue.
"The night in the hospital was even colder than I had imagined. The wall lamps in the corridor were not on, and it was very dark everywhere. I could only rely on the little light that seeped out of the room to help me see my feet.
"The smell in there was terrible. From time to time, dead bodies were brought in in body bags, and we helped move them into the morgue.
“It’s not a very good job, but at least it allows me to buy bread, and I can use my free time at night to study. After all, no one wants to come to the morgue unless there are bodies that need to be sent or transported away for cremation. Of course, I don’t have enough money to buy books, and I don’t see any hope of saving money at the moment.
“I have to thank my former colleague, if he hadn’t resigned suddenly, I might not even be able to get such a job.
“I dream of taking turns to be in charge of the daytime, but now I always go to bed when the sun comes out and get up when the night comes, which makes my body a little weak and my head occasionally throbs.
“One day, the movers brought in a new body.
“I heard from others that this was my former colleague who suddenly resigned.
“I was a little curious about him, so after everyone left, I pulled out the cabinet and quietly opened the body bag.
“He was an old man, with a pale, blue face full of wrinkles, and in the very dim light he looked scary.
“He didn’t have much hair, most of it was white, and all his clothes were taken away, not even a piece of cloth was left for him.
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"I saw a strange mark on his chest, it was dark blue, I can't describe it specifically because the lighting was too dim.
“I reached out and touched the mark, nothing special.
“Looking at this former colleague, I wondered if I would end up like him when I get old if I continued like this…
"I told him that I would accompany him to the crematorium tomorrow and personally take his ashes to the nearest free cemetery, so that those who are responsible for these matters would not find it troublesome and just dump them in a river or a wasteland.
“This will cost me a morning of sleep, but fortunately, it’s Sunday soon, so I can make up for it.
“After saying that, I fixed the body bag and stuffed it back into the cabinet.
“The lights in the room seemed to get dimmer…
“After that day, every time I went to sleep, I would dream of a thick fog.
"I had a feeling that something would happen soon. I had a feeling that sooner or later, something that I didn't know if it could be called a human would come to me. But no one was willing to believe me. They thought that I had become mentally unstable in that kind of environment and doing that kind of work, and that I needed to see a doctor..."
A male customer sitting at the bar looked at the narrator who suddenly stopped:
"Then what?"
The male guest was in his thirties, wearing a brown tweed jacket and light yellow trousers, with his hair pressed flat and a simple dark bowler hat at hand.
He looked ordinary, like most people in the tavern, with black hair and light blue eyes, not good-looking, but not ugly either, and lacking any distinctive features.
The narrator in his eyes was a young man of about eighteen or nineteen years old, with an upright figure and slender limbs. He also had short black hair and light blue eyes, but his facial features were profound and eye-catching.
The young man looked at the empty wine glass in front of him and sighed:
"Then?
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"Then I'll quit my job and go back to the country, and come here to brag to you."
As he spoke, a smile appeared on his face, a smile with a hint of mischief.
The male guest was startled:
"What you just said was bragging?"
"Haha." Laughter broke out around the bar.
The laughter subsided for a while, and a thin middle-aged man looked at the slightly embarrassed guest and said:
"Stranger, you actually believed Lumian's story? He tells a different story every day. Yesterday he was a poor guy whose fiancée broke off the engagement because of poverty, and today he has become a corpse keeper!"
"Yes, what about thirty years on the east side of the Serenzo River and thirty years on the right side of the Serenzo River? It's just nonsense!" another tavern regular followed.
They were all farmers from the large village of Cordu, and they wore short jackets in black, grey or brown.
The black-haired young man named Lumian supported himself on the bar with both hands, slowly stood up, and said with a smile:
"You know, this is not a story I made up. It was written by my sister. She loves writing stories the most. She is also a columnist for the "Novel Weekly"."
After saying this, he turned sideways, spread his hands to the foreign guest, and said with a bright smile:
“It seems that she writes really well.
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