In the room there is plenty of light and the unmistakable smell of formalin. The smell is so pungent that seems to be everywhere, except for the distinguished gentleman dressed clear to me is next. The air that surrounds it is evidently immune, his jacket gives off a scent of mint. He looked up at him, I seem to recognize it. It points out the crowd of white coats that surround the bed and keep me from seeing the patient.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"They're pulling out the drip" he says.
"Why? I resign? "
" On the contrary. The doctor can not make it more compassionate to bear the sight of some pustules full of pus, some of sores. "
I understand," I say. "It's euthanasia."
"No, this is not euthanasia" he explains, "there's nothing sweet for this purpose. I do not feel this bad smell? "
" I just feel formalin, and a smell of mint "points out.
"It does not feel the stench?"
"what stinks?"
"decomposition."
take a deep breath in trying to trace a new scent. In fact, now that I'm careful, I seem to recognize the smell.
"What is it called?" I ask.
"What's what?" Asked in turn.
"Like what? The patient who is decomposing?
"Ah yes, the resident ... It's called government. "
" Go .. Go. Government, "he stammered. "Finally!"
"Do not be taken from any form of enthusiasm," he says. "A well see this dead body has no intention of being buried, despite the complexion livid, and that the stench that emanates. You can not see it because it is hidden by all those white coats, but I know exactly what our body is doing back there. To prove that death is not, and will not be in the blink of an eye, struggling to feed his ridiculous show: dragging its feet in gangrene, rotate the orbits under the eyelids closed, screaming without vocal cords, asks time to time, even breathing, and trusts in a final clemency. "
A breath of air touched my cheek. The man smiles. I clearly see his lips moving in the act of sucking a mint. Now I remember him. Mr. Ettore Alito takes me by the arm and leads me into a corner where the light does not come, and where there is a television. The lights.
"I have done my part. Now it's up to you, "he says still smiling, but with the remote jumps constantly between the only two visible in this strange TV programs, as in a fast-paced ping-pong. "He has already figured out, right? Only two programs are broadcast, and we can not choose not to choose. Some souls are able to go back even from the dead. So? What do you prefer? The big brother or come away with me? "
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