As that incessant whining of the siren fills the cabs inner hustle of purpose, blank can't help but feel pained by the hatred for his job.
"I just cannot sympathize a great purpose to the rush of saving the lives of those who (most likely) have put themselves in the line of their own ultimate predicaments"
Blank only ever expressed his true feelings towards the job to those he knew weren't going the make it.
Only this time,
Blank was outlived by the man dying beneath fast sirens.
For that was blanks last standing hour in a cureless life gone sour.
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