"But I seem to you more common than the swans regarding prophecy, which when they sense that it necessary that they die, they sing in the interval 
before death..." - Socrates, Phaedo 

In the emergency room a girl vomits all over her shoes. 
Ahead are corridors lined with cots, a blur of figures 
in PPEs and the beeping of machines. When they finally 
let you in this wing no one can come with you. Behind 
a labyrinth of plastic curtains you lie down on a sheet 
and cannot tell what's burning. Rain falls on a slate-
blue desert. Every country is a bridge arching outward 
until it collapses in the middle. There's nothing below 
that you recognize but more than 5 vowels are pushing 
against your throat. At noon a single fly draws drunken 
circles on the ceiling; neither does it know what today's 
count is going to be. The last movie you saw at a theatre 
was all loud explosions and heroes bursting out of their 
ill-fitting clothes. A boy whistles; an arrow flies out 
of his bow toward its mark. Then a woman and child open  
a single door and disappear into the countryside, a long 
road white as a discarded bandage or a ribbon of sugar 
winding through the hills. Someone takes your cold 
hands and bows; and you get up as if to dance. 

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