A bearded mouth opens in red light, the film leaning close enough to hear the dark.

A bicycle’s gear and chain in close-up while two red circles hover behind like patient eyes.

In an ordinary green field, a red double-eyed blur takes up residence — the glitch grown a body.

Red goggle-eyes and a raised blade share one exposure, the threat assembled from two films at once.

A pale face tilts down through the wash, its thought arriving from somewhere off the map.

Night smoke climbs over dark structures in grain — industry exhaling in its sleep.

A kneeling man in white carries a screen where his head should be, and the screen is burning red.

By blue light a bespectacled man aims his camcorder — the diarist caught keeping the diary.

The red-bearded apparition dissolves into feathers of white, the series’ familiar spirit taking its leave.