The sad peeling paint on the panels reflected back at her in the bright headlights. She had worked late again. She turned the car off, waiting for the automatic lights to shut down. In the darkness, she could see the holiday lights on the neighbors’ houses on both sides. The blow-up, giant, artificial snowballs along with lighted candy canes outlining driveways were only the start. Each house seemed to find something else to put lights on, including the pointed bushes in the yards and the palm trees. Each home that had a palm had found a different way to string lights on them. They wrapped the long knobby trunks in colors and put white lights on the fronds. Some had big red bows and large lighted balls hanging on them. Her neighbors probably thought she was either Jewish or an atheist. In fact, in the cluttered block of small old homes, most only about nine hundred to twelve hundred square feet, hers was the only one without a single Christmas decoration of any type.
