Why were kids who can’t swim allowed into ocean?
Seven coffins lay on a table; inside each one, the body of a child, in a body bag.
“We need to do this quickly,” a morgue attendant shouted. “The bodies haven’t been preserved.”
And two by two, as the story of Noah’s Ark goes, they approached the coffins whose lids were lifted one by one and peeked inside.
Inside them lay the bloated bodies of their sons whose bodies they would take away with them once it was determined in which coffin they lay.
But it didn’t happen quite as clinically as that. When the parents came across the right body, the sound was unmistakable.
There came a high pitched scream followed by wails of, “why did I let them go on that damned trip anyway.”
“We need to do this quickly,” a morgue attendant shouted. “The bodies haven’t been preserved.”
And two by two, as the story of Noah’s Ark goes, they approached the coffins whose lids were lifted one by one and peeked inside.
Inside them lay the bloated bodies of their sons whose bodies they would take away with them once it was determined in which coffin they lay.
But it didn’t happen quite as clinically as that. When the parents came across the right body, the sound was unmistakable.
There came a high pitched scream followed by wails of, “why did I let them go on that damned trip anyway.”