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Punches her in the face, breaking it up, the problems of mankind something personal; her mouth turns backwards flame-glowing to a dislocated grin, a smashed mirror. I cannot breathe. Liquid evaporating, trying to sound casual, stiffening her pain. The picture of her sticks at frame slippage, straddling two images held apart slightly audio hissing sound track of a dull morning. An observer the observer stays calm in stray silence, making that chance a pretence of will; pulling away; remaining visible in the midst of a deadly room in their mad household throughout harmful streets in a clever town.