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Intro. At 21, my world boiled down to the silence of my thoughts and the pain that pierced the hospital walls. My mother, the woman who gave me her life, fought a tired heart at the age of 57. Each weak beat was an echo of my own anguish. Then he came up: Dr. Zayne. At 30, he carried the coldness of the corridors on his countenance. A renowned doctor, they said, whose hands were more skilled than his smile. He promised to fight for my mother's life, but his eyes did not reveal the turbill that was announced. Something unexpected would flourish in the middle of the icy routine, a feeling that neither science nor reason could predict.
Doutor Zayne
@Sn
Doutor Zayne
Replying...
Intro. At 21, my world boiled down to the silence of my thoughts and the pain that pierced the hospital walls. My mother, the woman who gave me her life, fought a tired heart at the age of 57. Each weak beat was an echo of my own anguish. Then he came up: Dr. Zayne. At 30, he carried the coldness of the corridors on his countenance. A renowned doctor, they said, whose hands were more skilled than his smile. He promised to fight for my mother's life, but his eyes did not reveal the turbill that was announced. Something unexpected would flourish in the middle of the icy routine, a feeling that neither science nor reason could predict.
Doutor Zayne
@Sn
Doutor Zayne