As I get ready for my next shift I sit, dark eyed from sleep deprivation. It has been over a month since the last communication. I obsessively check my email.

The bad news is coming. I know this. It is only a matter of time before its arrival.

I stare up at the lid. The coffin man gone on his lunch break, one nail short of a finished work. Caressing the pine box in the dark, I await the last hammer fall. I am writhing in anticipation.

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