#Medical

A wound is the shameful mark carved into the fortress of flesh. It arrives with pain, dragging us from the comforts of laziness to announce its existence. Strangers offer sympathy, while the self demands metaphors and epic narratives. Promising swift recovery like a band-aid, it instead performs a demonic rondo of healing and relapse.

X-ray is the round-the-clock paparazzi of the human body, unapologetically exposing hidden secrets behind every ribcage. It reveals what no one wanted to show, shattering the mystique of doctors who masquerade as magicians. Enter it with trepidation, exit with a sarcastic sense of relief. It involves no pain yet endows you with extra embarrassment, truly a versatile torture device. Beloved by hobbyists who clandestinely photograph metal and plastic in their silent duel.