"I know that sound! Somebody has just died!" – "No, it is only a

grasshopper jumping on the bed." but you can't recollect any sounds,

certainly not those (which ones?) that could have any attribute, an

addition to pull them out, bring them out; hospital was improvised in

the local church, at the edge of the valley, in the hideous building with

bare concrete structures, with massive doors temporary put there and

then forgotten in a hurry, you only remember a sludge of the caustic

smell from motionless bodies lying on beds, it has (audible?)

gray-brown color, and silence rising up and clinging high under the

roof made from blue sheet; and that morning some were dying, some

were feverish, froth on the mouth, some couldn't stand up, with thick

bandages over their eyes, some had died last night, early in the

morning, late in the evening, iodine and please, let me pass by, small

holes, dark openings in the air linger on for a while, untrained nurses

push them aside, dragging them along in passing, weak creaking of

the metal bed frames, mute scraping – outside the air assimilates

(giving? taking?) sharpness from the light, entryway covered with

road metal, jagged crests of forever suspended low mud waves,

flickering in the puddles, and a sundered belt of grass growing under

outer walls