2016
Alicante, Spain

The sound of a body hitting the ground from a great height is in some ways no different to the sound of any innate object hitting the ground from a great height.

Except in reality, there is nothing like it.

It is a sickening sound that is preceded by a horrifying vision of a person falling through the perfect blue sky to his certain death. Eyes wide as saucers, mouth in the shape of an O. Hands and legs flailing in an attempt to slow the inevitable. You want to look away, but you can't. Your eyes are transfixed.

The sound: thud. And the faintest grunt of the last breath leaving the body, for those listening very closely. Followed by an ear-splitting scream for those who aren't. The scream is not from the body whose brains exploded out of its skull on impact, but from the person who heard and saw. Sounds they will never un-hear, images they will never un-see. The body is still. The only movement comes from the thin red streams sneaking through the cracks in the orange sandstone.

Blue sky, orange stone, red blood, white faces. A little old lady with a green wheeled shopping bag totters past the scene, oblivious.