The small corpse beside him groaned. To his annoyance she seemed to keep doing this every time he made a comment. It was beginning to get on everyone’s nerves. Granoldi squinted at the bulge in the flaxen sheet stirring.
"And what of the baby bones? Do we take those with us also?" asked Tobias a little timidly. He was not wanting to do this collection.
Vivien had littered her home with objects carved and moulded from small bones. Her cutlery, her combs, even her false teeth were all of crafted bone.
Some, she had polished, and assembled into parquetry, which later were cleaned with a paste made of finely ground bone.
Francis could see with a forensic certainty what was once belonging to another human, and what was not.
His eyes saw life in all substance, and added to this he could perceive its nature also, made apparent in shades and blends of other-worldly tones - colours that mortal men could not ordinarily and plainly differentiate - for this vision, his vision, was ethereal.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances
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