I look at the cracked viewfinder. No display. He is insistent so I click away. Hoping his head and body are in better shape than the borrowed D7. It looks only marginally so.
Doctor arrives in the bird his hand shaking so much that he can not get the needle into the morphine, let alone into the vein.
I had looked down, easy chatter, shutter click of my eye, see him slip down head first. Shout the obvious. They were more calm. It was just another Boxing Day before, up above our city. After that was different. It would always be That Day.
I see Q is well now, in the new land. I wonder if he looks back and wonders about that day.