The fifth street morgue sits across from a Starbucks and between the jeweler's and the pawn shop. The building front's no wider than three yards across and through the doors is a dim descending staircase.

Down the stairs is a white room with oblong drawers with mundane names labeled on them. In another room there is a metal table and a tray of newly cleaned surgical utensils. The place smelled of cleanliness. There was no specific scent in the air, lack of dust, but a sanitary essence all the same.

In a far corner a lone lab coat hangs on a single hook. A laminated name tag sits beside it on a reflecting counter, "Shaun L."

The sun is setting now. In a few hours the door will open and a young woman will appear in the doorway. She'll put on her work coat and clip on her name tag, sit down at her desk and finish the paperwork she's been avoiding all week. She isn't here yet though, so for now we'll be better off just lingering here, down the stairs of the small building. We have a lovely view of the sun rise here, Yes, a very lovely view indeed.