The crowd shifted and murmured in the square. From my vantage, I could see every head facing the approaching procession. The mood wasn't quite celebratory. People seemed nervous.
One face did not look east. A dark-haired man at the edge of the crowd stared fixedly to the south. I watched his profile, curious.
Something dark and buzzing shot past me, eastward. I heard screams, gasps, shouts of terror. I tried to see, but I was at the wrong angle. Panicky, I craned my head and saw that the anomalous bystander was no longer staring south.
He was staring at me.
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