Hallucinate headlights to stay alive, for tonight, for tonight, anyway.
Only the day should be cold, and the night soft.
His arrival.
He arrives without streamers, and without confetti, and without bugle calls.
Without him the house has walls.
Traffic.
The tide is jealous of that great roar of traffic.
Villains hide their victim’s screams in it.
Tomorrow starts us over.
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