'Time of dead... 17:23.'
The doctor quickly leaves, throwing the bloody gloves to the ground. One of the nurses picks them up and throws them to the dumpster -just a few feet away-, the other covers the body of the woman laying over the e.r. table. Just some hours before she had arrived to the hospital by her own means, but with a terrible chest pain.
Hundreds of miles away her son throws a picture of both to the ocean and lights a cigarette. His hand is covered in blood, but he shows no pain nor visible wounds. In his face a smile is drawn while a whisper escapes.
'Finally it's over.'
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