Her herringbone tweed a point of parity to mirror marble black steelclick shoes, topped with aged-greyblack hair severe cut, hand gathered so sharp you taste dry metal from sliced skin.
They hunch, these residents, over an operating table, galvanized, tired but geared up, one step ahead of every move, the next needed instrument already at hand, a bobbing supplychain, which from tired eyes pass over prey with a look steel fast, everready.
An unskilled blade slips in, separating layer by blood-daubed layer, seeking, to shred subcutaneous adhesion, its inspiration the prone point and parry, electricity, ley lines in the twill.