In the heart shape box a mother kept all her daughters teeth, in the cleanest condition. She collected them like one collecting rocks, storing them all in a special container.

Her daughter was asleep, and had been for months and years now. Peacefully laying in the hospital bed with the heart meter on the wall beeping with clear consistency. The mother visited her every day, hoping for some sign of awakening. And everyday the mother went and sat next to the meter hoping that it changed even by the slightest bit.

She would sit down and look at her daughter with a container of her teeth. She had started collecting the teeth since she first got in a comma. And in an odd way, having her teeth with her was reassuring. She looked up from the teeth, back to the bed where her daughter lied.

The gentle hum of the machines faded into the background as she gazed at her daughter's peaceful face.