Dear Person Wearing Black Walking Their Black Lab At Night,
Did you think your blonde hair would save you?
Perhaps it did. Something glinted in the moonlight, after all, warning me and the driver behind me that you were not a shadow, but a thing.
I’d like to think you aren’t stupid. I’d like to think you set out in daylight and meandered longer than you should have, wending through the streets, admiring the cherry blossoms, waiting too long for your pup to dither and sniff.
I’d like to think your pet was constipated, instead of thinking you were dropped on your head as a child.
But I doubt it.
I’m happy I didn’t hit you, of course. But I’m even happier I didn’t hit your dog.