"When her body, silken by the water, rolled on the sand, it took the misty look of an old mirror, where everything is apparent without being necessarily visible. The line between the two hemispheres darkened as if by an eclipse of the Sun. She rolled on the sand, her breasts lingering like waves, until the wings of a great seagull covered them. She gained by her intercourse with the bird, for there were wings left to her, gracing her like an angel, and her navel remained dark, a way of communication with the darkness of Hades, where my uncle holds the chalices. With the change of status there came a new representative: he is not an ambassador since the status of darkness hasn't been officially recognized yet."
The dilemma of a forensic surgeon who is asked by a wealthy businessman to cover up a murder, presenting it as an accident.