Everything changes after death, people's face, their body. The very body that a moment ago you knew, you loved, after death becomes an stranger. And that is the strangest form of disconnection. Suddenly it blongs to a real you don and visa versa. You stand there gazing through the body that is still warm with life but the coldness has already spread to your heart. How indifferent they are. 

Dead bodies are like chairs, like the window you look through and see nothing. They are like walls, the walls, cold walls you touch and they are stiff. Something leaves them, I dont know what it is, I dont know whether it is tge soul or merely life that leaves them, but you realise it is gone. And sll is left is this body that very scarily, isn't familiar anymore. 

I look at my hands and my moving playful fingers and I imagine the day they look strange to people who were touched by them. I think this is the tragedy of mankind, the very fingers who touch you and then stay still and make you wonder...