Publisher's Synopsis
The man is laid beside the street next to the Pol sukhta with a bloody and scrappy shirt, tousled hair. His leg bone was broken and bleeding. A few steps further are his rickety sandals and half of his face is on the ground, bloody and muddy. He is breathing fast grunting. When his mouth is opened and his lips joggle; his dirty black and yellow teeth could be seen. The cop is standing and talking to his transmitter.
