Red pen

My job at the moment is to check through thousands of names of people who had corner's inquests.

Sometimes I come across funny names and I giggle to myself.

Sometimes I come across families who died together.

I check the names in big old leather bound books.

The leather has started to rot and if your not careful it comes off on your clothes.
These big decaying books, registers, have the name of the deceased, and the cause of death.

I learned quickly not to be too curious.

On each page there is some red pen in the sea of black, it's still a vibrant red.
It would be dramatic but a little true to say it is the colour of blood, the type that comes up in one perfect bubble when you accidentally prick your finger.

It's hard not to notice the red.
It's hard not to see the red out the corner of your eye and start reading before you can catch yourself.

Written in red pen, in the same delicate script as the black, are the suicides.