Grungy streets of a city, night, rain. A man in a topcoat and fedora stops in front of a large cardboard box on the sidewalk across from his flat. The box is upside-down, a narrow slit near the top. The man is startled when two eyes stare out at him from the box. He hurries to his flat, and, still in topcoat and hat, watches the box from his window. The eyes in the box have tilted the man's usually perfectly-lined life. He goes to a closet and removes a rifle with a telescopic sight. What's next for the box, and if he pulls the trigger, what awaits the solitary man?