My poor baby. She’ll never understand the impact of her sacrifice. Her donation will not go unnoticed.

“This is more than a donation of your body to science, this is a donation of your body to me. By signing these documents, you are saying you trust me to do with you as I will.” I sit back in my chair. It rocks. Why does it rock like that? I hate it. I twitch and end up just standing. If I sit in that chair one more second I’m going to throw it out the window.

She swipes her bangs out of her eyes and nods, “I do trust you.”

“Do you have any idea what I do to bodies? I assure you, I do not do anything cruel to a body. Art is my primary goal. Defiling a body would be out of my nature. At least— sexually defiling a body. That would just be morally wrong.”

“Is not all of this _morally wrong_?” She chuckles. I don’t laugh.

“I assure you, Ms. Lyman, the entire process is for a cause. My team and I would not have our hands on so many willing donors if they thought they’d be forgotten. With ever art piece, there is a plaque with the donors name and information about their life and who they used to be. It’s a very kind process.”

She shuffles her feet, “I understand…”

——

Author’s note: I know, I’m not giving you a proper end. I hope it all makes sense. Tomorrow is the Monaco Grand Prix!