Fragments:
The chick who went on a killing spree. By some pallisade or sidestreet, beneath a terrace.
As always happens on these occasions it seemed unreal. The goths were still joking, for a full minute after the shooting had already begun, not noting the import of it.
Sylvia the goth girl was halfway through a joke, and her cracked laugh bit down on it.
To realise as though half-seriously... the chick had already drawn a snubnose from a purse and began firing pointblank. Quick, like a scorpion sting. Manic, n we only came in here to shelter from the rain.
Car backfiring. Firework. Some prankster, bored, is letting off a firecracker.
Artschool. The chick who came into to look for folios along the shelves at the edges. Tall, brownhaired, somewhat geeky with protuberant front teeth, breasts stretching top.
Excitable. Can't move close to her.
Who was she?