A wired listener glances up as the world smears sideways, caught between song and street.

A woman lies still beneath a stranger’s hand laid across her eyes — sleep administered, not chosen.

A ring of light hangs in fog like an eclipse rehearsed indoors.

A face rests sideways across the frame, close enough for the film to breathe with it.

On red wood, a frightened face and a panel of pinned diagrams — the case and its evidence.

A figure darkens a doorway in a room already half fog, deciding whether to enter the image.

Against a faint window grid, a shadow stands where a man is only rumoured.

Two faces share one skull in double exposure, each dissolving so the other can appear.

From a glowing screen a woman’s face transmits itself through the static’s weather.

Pale continents drift across a grey field — a map of smoke redrawing its borders.