A shot echoes through the air as the sun goes down.
Ten years earlier, a great impact does the same. Crystalline shards scatter into the sky. An arterial spray, like the blood from a bullet hole.
A girl hums to herself, blissfully unaware that her door will soon be wide open, whatever plans she had for the night shattering into pieces. Just like the rock. Where will the pieces go? No one knows yet.
The air has been rent by the sound. The security cameras see the culprit crouch down, trying to shake the body awake. They don’t see her dizziness, the way the light doesn’t return to her eyes until several minutes after the shot.
A dead man scribbles on a piece of paper. He doesn’t know why, but a sudden urge rests itself on his chest. He is already dead, so it makes little sense, but then again, that’s the perfect reason to do it. Just one more face. One more face before he becomes incapable of recognizing them.
He grabs a canvas.
And that face is all the way across