I picture myself standing at the edge of Greg’s driveway. It was dark, and I had walked over because I saw the blue light. I had been watching the television in my living room. As a boy, I would lie on the rug and pull at its loose fibers while watching some sitcom family on the TV.
Sometimes, I would see the flickering light coming from across the sump that my house sat beside. As wide as a football field and as deep as a two-story house, the sump gathers rainwater draining from the streets. Sometimes, it’s a perfectly round lake and, other times, it’s bone dry.