Large fusion reaction in western sky blotting out all visible objects with its overpowering radiance. Heavy traffic emerging from the center of the inferno, whipping by on either side. Squinting doesn't help see stuff. Curses, curses on picking this time of day, or night. There is supposed to be an intersection coming up here somewhere but be damned if I can see it. Oh. There's the barber shop off to the right. Intersection should be right here. Should...be....
Motorcyclist = 0.
Red light = 1. A long honk lashes the air.
Motorcyclist = WTF. Glances at the mirrors. Burnt retinas make out the receding glow of a red traffic signal. Not cool. People die doing stuff like that. Death by inattention, it's called. So ladies and gents, wake up if you want to live, yeah?
(and sunglasses can help with that sometimes too)
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