I freeze. Time stretches infinitely in these unexpected and unwelcome quiet moments.
I listen. For what had been a noisy room, there is now a haunting silence in the back right corner.
I observe. For a sterile place, there is a wealth of color… blue masks, blue scrubs, blue gloves, blue drape, blue baby, and so much red blood.
I drift above the lights in the funereal hush as I watch our essence fading away in the slaughterhouse below.
They gather around him hurriedly, worriedly.
Finally, he cries. They rejoice.
But one of us died that day.