Once upon a time, Tolya, a former nurse in the cardiac intensive care unit, worked with me. We worked at an industrial enterprise, where the salaries were not so much of a fountain, so my wife was sternly nagging Tolya, so that he could find himself a better job, more profitable. Accordingly, often flipped through newspapers with ads (in those days - the Internet was a rarity), well, sometimes there were very original ad.
And then an ad caught Tolya's eye, which strongly made him think. The regional morgue required a night watchman, part-time cleaner. In morgues, in view of his former work in the cardiac intensive care unit, Tolik had to be, and often (heart - a delicate subject, dying in the walls of the cardiac intensive care unit was not a few), so, like, dead people he was not afraid of. The salary (probably in view of the lack of applicants in connection with the specifics of the institution) was very, very good. And Tolik made up his mind. Abandoned his industrial career and went to the abode of the dead.
Gave up and gave up. As was, and disappeared - we had a lot of turnover, so no one really noticed anything. A month and a half later, Tolik returned to our production. I began to torture him during the long and tedious night shifts:
- Tolya, what was the problem? Were you cheated on your wages?
- No, everything was fair, just as promised.
- Why?
- Do you know what a regional morgue is?
- No, and I hope if I do, it won't be in my lifetime.
- Yes, you do. And the regional morgue is a big building with dead people piled all over it. Snowdrops and the unidentified, and people from the villages are brought there - the dead are stacked along the corridor walls, everything is piled up. And it's creepy at night, and there's that stench, too.
- You said you weren't afraid of dead people.
- It's different, there's so many of them, it's like, I don't know... like hell, a silent circle of hell.
- And what, it's almost three times your money...
- I would not go, - Tolik paused, then looked around, as if in the rumbling workshop someone could eavesdrop on us, - just do not tell our people.
- Tolyana, the grave!
- Long story short... I went out for a smoke, moonless night, a breeze - at least to breathe the air, not all this... And a man was sitting on a bench on the porch. Normal-looking guy - normally dressed, stubby, smoking. I sat down with him. We chatted about life, I asked him what he was doing here, he didn't know what kind of a place it was. He says he knows, says he's got a shit going on in his life, that he's in the police department, that he got busted for something, in a nutshell, I'd better shoot myself. We had a good smoke, the guy says it's time to go, gets up and leaves. And I see that half of his head is gone, like he put a gun in his mouth and blew his brains out.
- Have you been drinking in there?
- I wish I was.
We never came back to this subject again.
You must be logged in to post a comment.