I see them there, every time I pull up: the three stacked traffic lights at the intersection of Van Buren Avenue and Lewis Street. People drive by them every day, twice a day or more, without noticing.

But I do. I know their secret. I see it every time one goes dark, imperiously stopping me or sending me on my way. Tiny skulls, in shadows of amber, crimson, or jade, leering out of the glass.

I’ve tried pointing them out, bringing people into my confidence about the evil that has overtaken that intersection. But they all laugh or cluck their tongues, saying things about LED lights and optical illusions. But I am not fooled; I know better.

Those lights are the locus of all that is evil in the world, a poisonous seed spreading tendrils throughout a tranquil garden.

I know what I must do.

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