"Anyway, I'm trying not to think about it," she said, shoving her hands into her eyes.

"How is that working out for you?" he asked, twirling a pine needle.

The pine needle dropped.  "When my eyes are closed, all I see is blood on my windshield.  I don't know how to live anymore."

He fell on the grass next to her.  "The selfishness.  That's what gets me.  How can someone, not wanting to live, not consider the lives he ruined when he dropped on your car?  It angers me."  He covered her hands with his.  "I want to take away the blood from your eyes."

They both looked up.  The blue light morphed to purple, then black, speckled with puncture wounds of light.  Their skin changed color and disappeared.  He looked over.  Her eyes were crammed shut, trying to erase the blood.

photo by Alexander Dvornikov.