And there they were. No silhouettes. No grey. All of them.
The screen went black. Then, a rumble from his TV speakers—a deep, guttural V8. A pair of low beams cut through the darkness, followed by a silhouette so wide, so impossibly long, it looked like a spaceship on wheels. The lights resolved into a jet-fighter nose and pop-up headlights.
But the garage was still locked.
He didn’t.