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Wild animals. They are never seen died on chairs, on beds, in cars, in homes, or offices. They hide, they go into hiding, and die like civilized animals.They do not show their death. If they do die crawling somewhere, and have no time to hide, they are eaten, eaten or decay in the ground, and are not left to be marked later as died.

 

Humans like to mark people. Mark them as dead and other different things. Maybe, they mark them as fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, wives, husbands, families, babies, teens, and adults. Maybe, businessmen, women, male, gay, straight, black, white, asian, indian, polak, czech, english, housewives, criminals, doctors, police, musicians, depressed, abused, happy, sad, ugly, bright, stupid, beautiful, kings or queens. Or maybe, old and new, rich and poor, and nothing left to label more, but old stones, and bricks, crosses and live-hoods, biographies, accidents, dreams, losses, and disappointments; maybe even, the last breath or the first.

 

Dead they say. One dead and three injured. All the grotesque nature of the unknown beings, each unique with their own worlds. But, to the world, they are just eventually Dead.

 

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