Son of the Evil Moon _ Stephen King _ txt Fiction Paradise

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Wonderful, this powerful treacherous official, in front of Xiang Gang, actually had no temper at all, and acted shamelessly.

They wore surgical masks, rubber gloves and disposable plastic aprons. On the stretcher trolley near the window was an opaque nylon body bag, zipped down, in which lay a dead man, apparently the homeless man who was about to be cremated instead of my father. He was about five feet ten inches tall and weighed 160 pounds. As he was badly beaten, I couldn't estimate his age. His whole face was smashed. At first I thought his eyes were covered with clotted blood, but then I realized that both of his eyes were missing. What I saw was a hole in his eye. I thought of the old man with the bleeding eye. That was scary enough for Bobby and me, but it was nothing compared to that. At that time, it meant the ruthlessness of nature, but now it means the danger of human heart. Years ago in October and November, Bobby. Once in a while, Heloway and I would go back and peek out the window of the incinerator. We walked through the dark night, careful not to trip over the ivy on the ground, and our lungs were filled with the fragrance of the eucalyptus trees around us, which I associate with death to this day. Two months before that, Frank had held fourteen funerals, but only three of them had been cremated. Others are all coated with preservatives to match the traditional burial. Bobby and I always lamented that the embalming room had no windows for us to use, and that the most sacred place — "where they work wet and dry," as Bobby put it — was in the basement, so that we bold spies could not take advantage of it. Privately, I'm actually glad we can only observe Frank. I guess Bobby must have breathed a sigh of relief at Kirk's "work,Fungal Chitosan Manufacturer," though he pretended to be disappointed. On the positive side, I guess Frank usually did the embalming during the day and cremated the body at night, which made it impossible for us to participate at all. The clunky incinerator was much more primitive than the PowerPark II that Sandi now uses, and although it could process remains at a fairly high temperature and claimed to have exhaust controls, it still inevitably let smoke curl out of the chimney. Frank chose to cremate the body at night mainly out of respect for the family and friends of the deceased. In the daytime, if they look from the city at the foot of the hill to the funeral parlor on the top of the hill, they are likely to see their beloved family or friends scattered in the sky as a wisp of gray smoke. Conveniently for us, Bobby's dad, Anson, happens to be editor in chief of the Moonlight Bay Gazette. Bobby could easily use his contacts and familiarity with the newspaper to provide us with the latest news of accidents and natural deaths. As soon as Frank has a fresh body, we'll know, Thyroid Powder Factory ,Lactoferrin Manufacturer, but we can't be sure if he's going to be embalmed or cremated. As soon as the sun goes down, we can't wait to ride our bikes to the nearby funeral parlor, then sneak into the private land of the museum and wait at the window of the cremation room until the cremation process begins or we are sure that this one will not be cremated. Mr. Gores, the 60-year-old president of the First National Bank, died of a heart attack at the end of October. We watched him being pushed into the fire. In November, there was a man named Henry. The carpenter in Ames lost his footing on the roof and broke his neck. Although Ames was eventually cremated, Bobby and I did not witness the process, because Frank. Kirk or his assistant remembered to close the shutters this time. However, in the second week of December, when we went to see Rebecca. The shutters were left open when Achille's body was cremated. She married a man named Tom. Aiqilan's junior high school math teacher, Bobby, went to that junior high school, but I didn't. Ms. Aiqilan is a librarian in the municipal library. She is only 30 years old and has a five-year-old son named Dai Weilin. The Aizhenglan woman lay quietly on the stretcher trolley, covered with sheets from the bottom of her body. She looked so beautiful that in our eyes, her face was not only like a dream, but also occupied a considerable weight in our hearts. We could hardly breathe. Guess we all understand that she is a beautiful woman, but we have no idea about her from this. After all, she is a librarian and a mother, and we don't know how to appreciate the beauty as quiet as the stars of the Milky Way and as clear as the rain when we are thirteen years old. Hot naked women on playing cards are enough to attract our bets. Intention. Before that day, although we often saw Ms. Aigilan, we never paid much attention to her. Death did not leave a mark on her face because she walked very fast. It was said to be caused by a defect in the wall of the cerebral artery, no doubt congenital, but it had never been discovered; the swelling finally burst suddenly one afternoon. A few hours later, she was dead. Her eyes were closed as she lay on the stretcher. Her features looked so serene, as if she were asleep; in fact, the corners of her mouth rose slightly, as if she were dreaming. When the two cremation officers lifted the sheets so that Ms. Aizhenglan could be placed in the cardboard box, Bobby and I saw her slender body, delicate and symmetrical, and her loveliness could not be described in words. The kind of beauty that goes far beyond sensual attraction. We looked at her with admiration, without a trace of distraction. She looks so young. She looks as if she will never grow old. The undertaker pushed her into the fire with unusual tenderness and awe. When the door of the stove closed behind her, Frank. Kirk immediately took the rubber glove and gently wiped the corners of the three eyes with the back of one hand, and then limited. It wasn't sweat he wiped away. In the past, during the cremation process, Frank and his assistant chatted easily almost from the beginning to the end, although we could not hear what they said. But tonight,D BHB Factory, they hardly talked to each other. Babi, I'm speechless. We moved the benches back into the inner courtyard and quietly left Kirk's funeral home. After retrieving the bikes, we rode across Moonlight Bay along the darkest street. pioneer-biotech.com

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