Dusk. Open country, two cars round a blind corner, one on two wheels out of control on the wrong side of the road. They hit head on. Metal explodes, pieces fly, tires screech then stop. One car flies over the embankment horn blaring, the other stopped like it hit a brick wall, much of it gone...a woman sprawled on its hood, arms at odd angles, blood pours from her head, her face obliterated coming through the windshield on impact. Another body, what's left of it, lays behind some rocks. Quiet returns. A bird lands on a fence post closeby and sings as usual, then flies off. Nothing for miles in either direction but the road, a line to the horizon growing dim. Dusk turns into night. Crickets chirp.