An outline only. Tossed and unhappy, clouds appear across the sky. In a crowded corner an angry splash of faces fill with teeth. The composition suffers. Then colors erupt, rivers of blue and green collide with night.
Reds fly up and drop like petals on an autumn day.
Thick with age, layers crumble. Yellowed eyes cast back the gloom, absorbing light yet shining. A figure in the distance dark but well-framed. Screen extras cry out, skewered by Mighty Duke Wayne, last man alive at the Alamo. Night is a tired dragon, and I a pilgrim fleeing its teeth, escaping the belly of the beast.