...looking at the back of the man working at the table. He was about five feet, ten inches tall, and medium weight with a slight belly sticking out of his dirty denim coveralls. I couldn't see his face yet, just the back of his head, short black hair around the back and balding on top. He was humming to himself. It was nothing coherent, just a deep "hum dum duh dum..." as he fussed with something near the body's shoulder.
I couldn't see its face, but the uniform looked tight and I wondered where they got one so quick. It looked like it could fit me, a strange thought.
"Make sure you get the right medals," I said. He just continued working a minute or two more, then he turned and I caught his name tag. It was one of those sew on patches, a red oval and white letters. Pete was his name and his face was pale, with dark eyes and a medium length beard to match the hair. He turned back to the body and kept humming, then said "Don't worry, everything is going to be taken care of..."
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