Chapter Two: Reverse Cut

The restaurant was quieter than the film. Shen stood between empty tables on black-and-white tile. Above him, the chandelier swayed by a fraction too small for the eye to trust. The street beyond the window had no color; its pedestrians looked like badly fixed silver-gelatin prints. Only the red-dressed girl was painfully vivid. She sat in the back with newly lit birthday candles before her. Shen rushed toward her and tried to shout, but his voice broke into silent, frame-by-frame gestures. She looked up, heard nothing, and saw only a strange man running at her. A white scratch burned across the upper corner of the image, as if someone had cut the film with a blade. Shen understood then. This was not reality. It was a shot already assembled.