I'm talking to a friend at lunch.
"Have you heard about the clowns?" he asked me. I hadn't. Apparently they're killing children.
With this thought firmly in my mind, we finish lunch and part ways.
I pull onto Orem Boulevard, and a USPS mail truck approaches from the opposite direction. As we pass, the truck makes a U-turn and pulls in behind me. We are the only vehicles on this stretch of road.
As we reach the next light, I look in my rear view mirror to see this:
"You can't make this timing up," my friend later said.
The murderous clown follows me, menacingly, for the next half mile or so. I managed to give him the slip at the next light.
I feel lucky to be alive.