Angol
A river and a bridge touch each other. A divine animation propels the waters that breathe life, that nurture the trees, the fish, even the moss growing on the bricks of the bridge's pylons. Yet the arches represent time, units of time, in seconds, days, hours, complete lifetimes or centuries of time. Time past, time forgotten, time lost. The same waters cannot kiss the bridge twice just as we cannot live even one minute of our lives over again. Such is this book - a celebration of life and death all at once, a dance on the line that separates one from the other, light foot steps around a boundary dangling on the edge of an abyss. This book is about what it feels to be on the other side of the surgical blade, reflections of an observer of biology and humanity. These are true stories of real people, their toils, their tragedies and their surgeon. Every drop of blood shall find its resting place in this dance amongst the stars we experience together as human beings.
