4.23.20:MORGUE

This piece was inspired by the mobile morgue by grandma Amita’s house- something none of us had ever seen! Seeing a refrigerated truck that piled up dead bodies was freaky, and maybe ignited some curiosity in the kids. Poem by Aarav.

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Cold, sterile, linear, colorless, lifeless—all these words come to mind when I hear the word morgue. Initially, there is no positive emotion accompanying this word, yet in the deepest part of my heart, I am thankful for people who work there and those that conduct the testing and teaching of the human body. And thus I realize this place that repulses my whole body does have a beating caring heart.

Jolanda Dranchak

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Amita Rodman