Circles, ovals, rectangles...
From the circular speaker came the voice of the dispatcher, sending us to a rectangular house.
Through the rectangular door we rushed, with our somewhat rectangular bags.
Our patient was on the long rectangle of a couch. Circles were on his face...his blue-tinged mouth gasping for a breath, his wide, rounded eyes showing the fear.
From the red rectangular bag quickly came a green cylinder, containing the breath of life - oxygen.
Over on the oval table were more shapes, big and small.
A rectangular plastic bag, and a silver-colored rectangle cigarette roller. Next to them, the dinner-plate sized circle of an ashtray, dotted with the smaller circles of cigarette butts.
The circle of a life, perhaps turning into a downward spiral.
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