There he laid in a bloody pile of snow - life escaping from a grape-sized hole in his head. He was just minding his business, brushing snow and chiseling frost off of his car windows. And in an instant, he felt a unfamiliar tinge at the back of his skull and collapsed into the snow.
You're cold. You're alone. God abandoned you to your illimitable suffering. It has been speculated that a decapitated head is capable of sight for eight seconds. Eight seconds of rolling from the guillotine. Eight seconds of seeing the faceless masses roar with delight and horror. But is the head still conscious? Does anything register? Is eight seconds a zombie eternity - perched beyond ephemeral bonds, but not yet everlasting? Or does the rolling head peel away its illusions to reveal a natural darkness freed at last from luminous interlopers?
A number of things passed through his wounded skull.