What would have been a generously roomy space instead feels like a mausoleum, with row upon endless row of beds pressed close together. Restrained by leather straps, the patients in each bed are so still it is hard to ascertain whether they are alive or mere effigies. Their skin is so thin, the frail veins reinforce their likeness to marble statues. Glass bottles hover in the air, the viscous liquid within flowing slowly through tubes that snake their way down in an intricate web into the paralyzed bodies below.
