Cold surgical room. Mavis. Some paths are crossed once. Till the next threads align.Strangers in a room exchanging topics of the everyday. I was to feel no pain; on the contrary part of me was removed and deceased.Through the minor gap I gazed in her direction letting the tears stream. She read my pulse and knew I was out of breath. Nothing but the smell of blood and scrapping flesh. Going under the knife was saying goodbye.My body was an experiment.I hope to see you again to tell you how much that meant.
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