Tinsel shimmered in the moonlight. My wife burrowed deeper into her overcoat and tightened her scarf. She hadn’t gotten colder, but the temperature hadn’t tamed the stench. She reeled in disgust and contrived a better shield. I slowed down to investigate. She hurled onward.
Christmas lights sparkled above us. The city had purchased new decorations, and the young bulbs pierced the winter night. They glimmered sharply and cast the city in high definition. Memories of the old lights seemed gauzy in comparison. Garland stretched across the semaphores, buttressed by steel but weighted by snow. Red ribbons capped streetlights along the sidewalks.