Stiff silver tools lay in the mournful chill of the surgery room. It was Schroedinger's cat, the air that waits before the exhale. An absence of time and no freedom from the outcome. Jittery words are pulled from books to merely dance across nervous eyes as a frantic brain plays…

My son will be going in for a surgery so I had medical equipement on my mind. There's something to be said about the state of mind in the waiting. I feel I started to get into the swing of what I was writing and then the timer went off. Perhaps something I will explore later!