BRATTLEBORO — I was putting my trash out on Williston Street on the evening of May 6, around 5 p.m., when I suddenly heard what sounded like a mosquito on amphetamines, amplified 100 times.
I turned to my left just in time to see one of those low-to-the-ground mini-motorcycles with the wide tires heading straight at me - straddled by a young dude looking not at the road, but at his rear tire for some reason, accelerating the wrong way up a one-way street.
Fortunately, I remembered one of my swerve moves from the dance floor, and I watched him disappear over the crest of the hill.
If you are the driver and you read this, I'm happy we aren't the main characters in a local news story that would only spread more grief in this world.
Chill. And remember, besides old guys like me, there's kids in almost every neighborhood.