Spirits

Drew wandered back into the main room of the morgue. He was still very cold. He saw the white doctors coat, several of them, hanging by door. He grabbed the first one he touched and swung it over his shoulders. He slid it on, and it helped with some of the chill. He went to the sink and saw it had a mirror above.

"I look like shit," he thought. And he washed the blood from his face and hands. More would have to be done when he was home and could take a proper shower.

He shuffled to the door and swung it open. He wanted out of this fucking place. He would let lawyers ask questions later, on how the idiots had called him dead and shifted his body to the Morgue.

He went to the elevator bank and pushed the only button on the panel. Morgues were always in the basement.

'UP is the only direction from here,' he thought with a bit of morbid enjoyment. He shuffled through the hospital and headed for the outside doors. Several people stopped to look at him, but as always it was not his 'rugged handsomeness' that drew their looks. He assumed he was starting to show bruising now that he was starting to warm up. The Doc coat was perfect camouflage to keep most at bay.

He walked out into the sunshine and just stood feeling the heat and energy course through him. He looked around and saw the busy streets that surrounded the hospital. Across the way he saw a sign. A sign for a restaurant

"Spirits"

Fade to black