'm walking down the aisle of a laboratory or a hospital. The walls are white, also the floor. The lighting is uniformly distributed but there is no hint or vestige of which is its source. I will take firm steps, fast but without hurry. Cross behind a door and several tables or beds (or perhaps that is movable perform both functions). There is a woman waiting, must be my age and height, may actually think it's a female equivalent of myself. I extend my hand up to our faces and show him a clear jar filled with a cloudy liquid which float two fetuses about 24 weeks. They are joined at the abdomen, chest and much of the face, forming a well-defined mirror symmetry, from a purple line around the cheek and the rest of the common fragile membrane. She carefully removed the bottle and extends the bodies on a stainless steel tray. There is a scent hard to describe in the air, half alcohol and half something else, simultaneously sweet and pungent. She hands me a scalpel, finger extend the cranial area of \u200b\u200bthe Siamese and proceed to make an incision that goes down in one straight line to the lower abdomen. The bodies seem an extension of the skin, never used, and made of latex, only the rosy tone of the bones seems to give any trace of life to Siamese twins. In the abdomen there is a spherical structure of veins and arteries supersaturated very fine, another split line as slowly as possible. Inside is a perfect skeleton formed, distributed on the walls of the sphere as a fossil, in a fetal position. Extend the cut with both hands as she brings a pliers-like tool and begins to separate the bone tissue and delicate one impulse: the tiny skeleton off undifferentiated as made in one piece.
