As often as possible Mikhail went to church to light a candle for the old woman and pray for her soul. It was the only time he felt at peace.

When he was at work, he tried his best not to go anywhere near the basement hallway that lead to the morgue. If something was needed there, Mikhail managed to be busy elsewhere.

He stopped smoking, stopped wearing his jacket to work and even stopped eating lunch in order to avoid having any reason to go to the employee�s room in the basement.

His co-workers talked behind his back about how strangely he was behaving. They wondered what was wrong; what had happened to turn Mikhail from the quiet, calm, hardworking man he had been into the nervous distracted man who avoided calls to the basement floor like the plague.

The rumors began to reach Mikhail's ears, underscoring his own distaste for his behavior of late. He decided he had to come to grips with his fears.

He pushed the �B� button on the elevator panel, fidgeting while he waited for the doors to close. He exited the elevator and walked to the hallway that led to the morgue, a pounding noise began in his ears.

He reached the hallway and turned to walk toward the morgue. She was waiting for him whispering, �Mikhail, Mikhail,� as she beckoned to him.

The tiny article appeared on the 5th page of the local paper. It read: