The normal flush of his cheeks had gone white, and his lips were parted to admit the breathing tube. There were no signs of anything, of life or struggle or crisis, only the gruesomely robotic sounds of the oxygen machine pumping air into his chest and sucking it out again.
Often, hospital imagery becomes almost cliché. Every story talks about the mechanical and sanitized atmosphere, the cold harsh lights. However, the author managed to inject a new visualization. Hospitals can be described as "gruesome" with all the disease and wounds inside, but to mix the robotic with the gruesome synthesizes a new perspective. I also like how he describes his brother's body both in an active and passive sense, emphasizing his liminal state. His lips "were parted" in passive voice but chose to "admit" the breathing tube. These two lines of figurative language very much elevate the entire story.