I heard it before I saw it, a jingling of bells like the soundtrack to a corny Christmas movie. Then out of the mist rolled a small carriage, round and bright as a converted pumpkin. Florescent ... [+]
The promise of safety
Retreats before the distraction, impatience, the rage
Of my neighbor; who on the street would wish me well,
Then behind his car's tinted glass,
Succumbs to a darkness he does not understand.