I should have accepted Vincent"s offer to drive me home. It was painfully cold outside, with brown piles of slush heaped on every corner, keeping the sidewalks icy and slippery. Frigid gusts of wind froze my nose, my neck, my lips, even my eyeballs. Of course, I should have expected it. After all, it was the end of December in the city that never sleeps. Despite, or in spite of the angry heavy gray clouds and the freezing temperature, it was a cheerful, optimistic time. Red and green lights danced to happy Christmas tunes, fat and skinny Santa Clauses rang bells of every size and shape, along with their eternal companions, the elves and reindeers. And there were the decorated trees. Live ones, plastic ones, sagging ones, printed ones. All glowing cheerfully against windows of vehicles, sho
