The figures in SHOUT rage and cringe, kiss and kill, depending on the angle of view and where the light strikes. This piece is about rage, and what happens when the brain shuts down, leaving only the primitive animal cortex to respond.

The wind pounced on the old woman huddled tightly in her sari, as she guarded her eyes against the blowing sands. It tore free the bright fabric and spun it to the skies, a mad scarlet tangle that leaped and whipped and taunted. Silently, she waited for the wind to grow bored, to spend its rage against the silk and leave her in peace.