Such a rare thing. Strange and alien, of what life form could it be. Is it what they needed? Is it what was needed? Strange, it was so unclear. Non but they knew, those people running around like madmen. Corridors begin to narrow as crowds out poured all to see, all to witness , this so called found “thing”.

They rushed. They grabbed seats. Watched and waited like patient fools. All they knew, all he knew, all I knew was this was the grand scheme of things- the final hand dealt. Could this be the end? Or a fresh start? Was it all here? Trapped in containers.

Non knew. They knew. As they rushed in the door. Took tubes out and stuck it in. Pumping life back into him. There he lay, Patient 7, there I lay, playing scenes out of these madmen in lab coats, doctors of many names. There I lay, seeing families waiting in corridors. Now I wait, he thought. Now I wait for this bag of air to pump in  me hope. All I know, all we will ever know, how strange to be scared, in a small little fact, that is Air. Oxygen in our lungs, or else life is hung. All we need is air, suffocated modern fools breathing in carbon; all we need is oxygen in our lungs. Man zero, Nature one.



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