a kite flying serenely in the azure sky... a bird flies past it gracefully.... there is the promise of fun and beauty and everything good in the perfect flight of the kite.... a shot rings out... the kite is torn apart. it descends slowly.... catastrophically.... and as it comes down, we see the world below, devastated by the riots..... a world with total absence of movement... a dead world... the defining image is that of the smoke rising.