Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday: When You Think You Can See but You’ve Got It All Wrong

I pulled into the parking space just as the red pickup truck next to me turned sharply, clipping the neighboring car so hard it rocked on its wheels.

The pickup idled. Behind the spattered windows rolled up tight, a man and a woman looked down at the scraped Ford. There was discussion. Mouths moved behind the closed windows. They looked, talked some more, laughed. And then drove slowly away.

I ran across the parking lot and into SuperSaver. Tossing my purse onto crates of tomato juice, I wrote...