Dania Kashin

October 29th. A beautiful sunny day. Danya was driving along the highway to the city. Everything would have been fine if the rear differential hadn't burst, Kashin hadn't lost control, and he hadn't slid into a ditch.

He was in terrible condition. He had a fractured right temporal lobe, blood coming from his ears and mouth, a bunch of bruises and contusions, but he was able to call an ambulance.

Of course, he was admitted to the hospital. How could he avoid it? To the ENT department. The worst thing, in his opinion. It's all so disgusting. Your ears, throat, and nose are staring. They're literally asking inside you.

He doesn't remember how he got to the ward. He only remembers that some young woman put a tamponade (a bandage that is placed inside the throat) on him.

Waking up in the morning to the sound of the door slamming, he looked at the ceiling, and then at the doctor who entered. He couldn't clearly make out the white walls and white coat because of his terrible state . "Am I dead after all? Are you an angel?"