A man is walking through his elegant backyard, which has layers of shrubs and huge stone blocks. He has just finished some chores and is on a paved path. As he nears the end of the path, there is a drop-off. He over-cautiously leans out barely over the edge to see a monorail track. I feel the same dread I would if I were leaning out over an unknown height. I wonder if a train will flash by. He turns back towards the house and his wife, who is in the kitchen. The man casually glances in the direction of the track and sees a large man with long hair under his hat and draping his heavy coat — we don’t see that man’s face. A few steps later, the first man glances again and the other man has moved just as many steps closer. I think, “these are great camera movements.” The subtly sinister music plays on. The man walks around his Jaguar towards the basement door. A different man appears at the door. The first man rushes into the basement and pulls the two sides of the French doors together with all his strength, trying to latch it. Through the gap in the door, we see the other man moving a knife to pry the latch, his angry eyes above the knife. He yanks open the doors as the first man walks backwards through the gloomy room. The angry man closes in on the first man, talking about revenge. The police burst into the room and the lights brighten. The angry man say, “this man drove into my friends and me and left us to die!” Now, we can see the blood, even a bone sticking out of the angry man’s leg.

I think, “the wife can say she never heard the car start.” The dog shakes his head, my furry alarm clock. mjh