And Lars thought of himself. Of the vast, gaping cave within him, black like pitch. Dark like the morgue beneath Monson's department store. Windowless and secret and clammy and ignored.[...] And Lars' stomach churned, wretched ill, because for the first time he realized he was filled throat to gut with formaldehyde. Mildred said he was the undertaker, but that wasn't true.He was the morgue.
-Allie Ray
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