The rock holds the paper, while the scissors cut the hand and seal out of her.
Just a little more left.

The rock thinks: “Jesus, why did I want to be a doctor
Should have just stayed with mechanical mathematics.
Again, I feel nauseous and dizzy.
There’s still time I’ve got get out of here.”

The scissors think: “Christ, when will I finally get to smoke!
Maybe another doctor can sew her up?
Women these days, will lie under any seal,
as if they weren’t the ones to pay for it.”

The paper thinks,
it’s almost over, that she just has to wait a little longer,
and tries
not to scream.