After his death, I had my father's body autopsied and viewed the subsequent remains. Under his morgue sheet I could see he'd grown so thin - though decomposed and poorly sutured, he looked oddly younger. I thought at that moment that we were one another's spitting image. Willing myself to touch his face, I watched my finger sink into the flesh of his cheek. It felt like touching some future version of myself.
Three images of our bodies draped under cloth.