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"He always thought, a girl who smiles brightly with the mask of pain hiding her face could only exist in the poems, not knowing his own life had reached at the last line of the same one."
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Present
In a summer full of neverending tears
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The operation theatre reeked a musky scent of dried and warm blood, all together. Lights were flaming continuously from the dense air carrying everyone's troubled breaths, sweat coated on their skins draped under green aprons and masks, hand gloves soaking wet and surgical instruments lying soiled on the plates. Another shot of red drenched their eyeglasses.
