Descriptive paragraph-an exercise in writing

The room sat at a comfortable temperature, yet an eerie chill hung in the air. It was the type of chill that gripped at the deepest, marrow of your bones, one you could not escape or recover from. Although a mundane situation, it was a grisly scene that viscerally attacked one’s core. A quick scan revealed nothing abnormal; simply an operating room filled with standard medical equipment. A steel gurney stood in the center of the room, draped by a crisp cotton sheet. To the left sat a silver cart with each medical instrument carefully placed on top. A bowl filled with water sat beside the instruments. Despite the room temperature sitting at a comfortable 18 degrees, a thin sheet of ice began to creep over the water’s surface. At the head of the gurney he stood, simply preparing for his nightly routine. He snapped on his gloves, adjusted his goggles and set to work. Standard fluorescent lights lit the room, but the overwhelming intensity was so powerful it seared the images onto the retinas. Sheer blinking could not dislodge these permanent etchings. The surgical room was encased by stark medically white walls. The pairing of the white lights and white walls highlighted the ghoulish glint of the surgical steel instruments, invoking a gruesome beauty into the room.

                 Ignoring the deafening buzz of the fluorescent lights, he worked on in silent solitude. He picked up a scalpel and as the stinging point kissed the thin veneer of sunken flesh the caustic ripping of sinews exploded throughout the room. The shrill screech of metal on metal as he put his instruments down molested the eardrums. Reaching into the corpse for the organs of the deceased, a nauseating slurping tickled one’s eardrums.

                As if to mock of the morbidity of the scene, the sterile scent of antiseptic echoed the white desolate walls. The powdery stale odour of rubber hung at the edges. Shadowing the cutting of flesh, the putrid stench of rancid carcass permeated the rectangular confines of the room and assaulted the very crux of one’s being.

In this ghastly death scene the presence of a lone shadowy apparition hovered over the soulless corpse. Not seen, felt, nor heard, his demanding presence was simply known as he sought for his final legacy.

With one final breath, the surgeon respectfully stitched together the cadaver. Positioning the body for the last dressing, he stepped toward the door. He quickly flicked off the lights, and opened the door to leave. Halting mid-step, he turned, as if beckoned by some invisible presence desiring his last farewell.