The car ran a red light and suddenly ran over an empty plastic bottle on the ground. It was a large bottle of Jasmine Tea. There was an extremely sudden crack, and no car or person passed by. 

I walked across the street but was so alarmed by the noise that I thought I should record something, I turned back and ran a red light. Maybe I should have hit something too, but no, I just ran past cars that came to a stop, found the empty plastic bottle on the ground before more cars ran over it, or the sweeper swept it away and took a few pictures.

I didn’t dare go forward at first because it was so far away from the curb, almost in the driveway, or the first car wouldn’t have hit it. Then a motorcycle came and stopped not now from the bottle — it happened to have its lights on. The lamp hit the bottle just right, adding a touch of sanctity or selection. With a jerk, I saw the musical I’d seen earlier in the year — but Mozart l’opéra rock was in the theatre, with the dark background and the giant stage lamp, and the bottle was right here, by the side of the road. It has no “dark background,” but it has nights, no spotlights, but street lamps and passing cars with high beams.

The bottle was lying on the ground, flat where it had been pressed, with a hole in it. The light shone from all angles over and over again, and the plastic skin and a little water inside slowly reflected the light, throwing it into the air and making the bottles glow. I moved closer and took more photos. The second time I crossed the road after the lights had turned green again and the bike had cleared, it was in a different direction — I bought a bottle of Jasmine Tea at the store.