She just celebrated her 40th birthday last month and she was in the best shape of her life. She lived alone in her own town home. Anita crossed paths with a number of people everyday during her run. She nodded at some, and smiled at a few. There was one person or two who would stop and exchange a greeting or a few words with her. She did not know most of their names or where any one them lived. She called them her running buddies. She referred to them that way when she occasionally talked to her friends about weird running patterns or outfits, or a major fashion faux-pas that she noticed. One of their favorites was the bright orange jersey man who took gigantic strides. It looked like his legs made up more than three quarters of his body's height. The first time Anita saw him, it was from a distance and all she could see were his legs, and then his torso emerged. Then there was this girl in tiny running shorts, She wore the same every day even in the winter months. She passed a good looking man in a fluorescent green cap each morning. It was a woolen cap and she often wondered why he wore that on warm days too. She did not know his name, but he always saw her in the eye and smiled. She loved the way he smiled. She did not think she was attracted to him but there was something about him that made him hard to forget. She looked forward to seeing him every day and she enjoyed their brief encounters. There were times when she remembered his twinkling blue eyes when she looked for some recluse on a particularly difficult day. On this particular day she did not see him and wondered why. Then there was this couple who always wore matching t-shirts and they walked on alternate days. This was due to the man's bad knee the lady said, information she got without asking for it. She did not want to be rude to her so she listened to her occasional monologues. A young college athlete always ran at the same time. Or was he a bolt of lightning, it was hard for Anita to say from the speed of his running. She did not know a whole lot about any of these people but somehow felt they were all a part of her life. And when she did not see the regulars on a particular day she missed them and was always surprised why. Suddenly her thoughts drifted to her work day.
Soon after her run, she had just enough time to take a shower and and grab a bagel before she got to work. She was a forensic pathologist and worked for the Charlotte-Macklenburg Police Department. She went over the list of things she had to do this morning. She knew there was a body lined up for autopsy. She received a message late last night that there had been a deadly accident on the interstate and one person died. Anita loved watching crime dramas as a kid. And when she was ready to go to college she instantly knew which career path she would take. She was always fascinated how science had answers to questions pertaining to the manner and cause of death by examining a corpse. She dreamed of solving every murder mystery that came her way. She decided to study forensic medicine. As soon as she graduated she landed a job in the police department and performed various autopsies. Though she did not solve every homicide case as she had fantasized as a student, she was still happy and content with her job. She handled other kinds of autopsies too on accident victims or deaths caused due to unnatural causes. She took her job seriously and felt that any kind of information that she could extract from the corpse was significant to either the police or the near and dear ones of the demised.
She parked her car and entered the building. The department of forensic medicine was located on the 5th floor. She occasionally took the stairs, but she was running late this morning and decided to take the elevator. She entered her office and sat at her desk. She briefly glanced through the incoming mail piled up on her desk, and the reports she had to send out soon. She checked her e-mails, and decided to send out replies later in the day. It was time to get to the autopsy room. She went to the prep room adjoining the actual autopsy room. Her assistant had already arrived. He greeted her and talked about their work of the day. He told her that the body of an accident victim had arrived late last night, and that he had finished the preliminary external examination. The body was ready for the actual autopsy and was on the "body block". Anita thanked him and he helped her get into her medical apron. She went into the autopsy room and before proceeding to he table she decided to go through the belongings of the deceased person and catalogue them properly. This was standard procedure. It was her technician's job, but this morning for no particular reason, Anita decided to do it herself. She stood over the table where the victim's clothes and other personal effects were neatly lined up. She took one glance around the table and she froze. She felt her legs going weak and desperately wanted to drop on her knees. She just kept staring and staring. Anita could not muster the courage to move a single finger. Time stopped ticking. She did not know how long she kept staring at the things laid out before her, until her assistant shook her shoulders. "Anita! Anita! What is the matter? Are you okay, do you want to sit, would you like a drink of water?" She heard his words, but they made absolutely no sense to her. She kept staring for a few more minutes and then turned away. Anita walked to the phone attached to the wall. She called the other pathologist on-duty that day and asked him if he could kindly cover this particular autopsy. The colleague agreed and she ended the call. She walked towards the exit that opened to the corridor. She was almost at the door when she stopped dead in her tracks. She walked back to the table and opened the wallet, she found the ID and read the name of the person it had belonged to. Anita took another long look at the table and left the room. She went through the day in a blur. An inexplicable grief took over her mind and body. She did not know how the day went by, and finally it was time for her to go home.

life is like that. Acquaintances are missed more than who call themselves as friends. Good job keep it coming..
ReplyDeleteThanks for the support:)
ReplyDeleteI am starting to realize how hard it is to come up with a plot before one can sit and write a story..