The light in the lonely hospital room was dimmed, as always at this time of night. The respirator’s sighs and the beeps of the heart monitor joined in a lulling rhythm, only disturbed by the occassional dissonant beat. Beneath the bed, the machine pumping liquid food through a narrow nasal tube hummed the base line. A strange orchestra. Only the two IV’s dripped without a sound.
The sole beneficiary of this performance was the skeletal figure of man lying between standardised linen sheets. His features were taut, yet his hair, thinning after prolonged medication, betrayed that he was not as old as he looked. He would never be as old as he looked.