Hey, you, / you riding a bicycle in the dark and cold/ with a little yellow light on your helmet and a white one and a red one/ on your handlebars and the back of your seat respectively/ that alternately dim and flash as you pedal./ Yeah, you./
You are three floating lights, silent except for tire hiss on the wet sidewalk./ It’s really sort of creepy.
Be aware of this as you come up behind someone/ who is listening to “Welcome to Night Vale*” on headphones.
You should get a bell or something.
(*”The Shape in Grove Park.”)