No.8: Meet 'the little lights'

A germaphobe meets a human strainer

^they call this “foreshadowing” in show biz.

I don’t know about you, but even under the loveliness of this week (did you hear that we finally hit sub 88 degree temps here in Texas?) there was still a sense of gloom. It was as if everyone was collectively on edge—in the grocery store, at school drop off, in the news and especially in my real-life conversations with friends. I felt like I was watching myself in a movie at times, unable to really enjoy the wonderful things happening and only able to feel even the smallest and slightest inconveniences exaggerated instead.

The other day, I sat at a red light with a single car in front of me and when it turned green, he was still looking down at his phone. I played the “to honk or not to honk” game for so long that I kid you not, the light was on the verge of turning yellow again and decided I had no choice. I honked a “just to let you know” honk, not a “cursing at you through the horn” honk, and the look this man gave me through the rearview mirror was one of pure loathing. Like he wished me dead. Like he’d do it himself if he didn’t have a better place to be.

And I said THAT’S IT! We need something LIGHT!

And so, here we are.