Paramedics scramble to bring life back to a man who's own blood, leaked, has choked off vital airways. The struggle is futile and the man is long gone, but all the harder they work. Time passes and they arrive at the hospital. Doctors struggle as well, fighting the inevitable. Death wins the battle, and all involved admit their defeat.
Back at the messy ambulance, paramedics are reminded of their own footprints, wondering all the while if this patient, too, was marked by their efforts. ...Or do those prints wipe as easially away, shamed as an imposition and forgotten as useless?