Gordon Freeman kissed his wife on the cheek. She used to wear guns on her hips.
They walked the canals. Clean water twisted like silver rope through the rocks. Snakes snapped at black turtles whose clonks echoed down and down and done. In the distance, they heard a horn go up, the sound of gates rising (or closing).
They made love under a tree. In the market they bought pears.
Murder came with howls in the night and in the morning a wagon would go by, its bed covered by a sheet.
She would grab for her guns. He would rise stiffly at the sounds of the city horns.
On the news, the newsperson said the city horns were broken. Maintenance was working on it. The newsperson said that people should not jump to conclusions at the sound of the horns. Most likely it indicated false alarm.
Gordon Freeman kissed his wife. They listened for the horns on their walks. The watched over their shoulders. They waited for the ground to crack open.
