A careful step, and then another. You try to see where you are going, but to no avail. You lock your eyes on the small round light about 15 feet ahead. Once you get to that light, you can proceed to the next one. Halfway to your destination, though, things change.
Lights start flashing.
A horn blares. You look to the right, and there appears a wrecked Ford Escort, front end wrapped around a tree, man lying across the hood, his legs still inside the car. Then you see out of the corner of your eye, perhaps a moment too late, someone bolting towards you, axe in hand. You cry, perhaps. Or you just laugh and walk on.