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| Photo courtesy Phatomsway.com |
Crystalline doilies, one by one, fall in muted perfection, dancing as diamonds in the silvery moonlight.
I turn the starter several times. Grinding but no action. Get out. Raise the hood. Someone will stop to help.
Distant headlights, blinding me as they advance. A silhouette car and man stand idle behind the glare.
"Come here, Barbara. It's over."
"No. I just need a boost. It's the battery. It's dead."
"Dead, yes. Not it. You." He reaches for my hand but I repulse his advance.
The snowflakes dull in an extinguished moon. The frosted doilies lay as a shroud over me.
