Moving there like an afterimage, like it was left behind, is just trying to creep past without being seen, he’s ninety percent sure there’s the shadow of a person up against that wall. A thin shadow, just for a flicker of a moment. A woman with a head that’s not human. It’s too heavy, too long. When it turns as if to fix him in its wide-set eyes, he raises his hand to block her vision, to hide, but it’s too late. It’s been too late for ten years already. Ever since he pulled that trigger.
