In the time it took to explain
to the Alabama-plated Uber driver
the location of my neighbor’s door
and to confirm the direction 
allowed by the street signs

The June sun had burned his white van 
so deep into my retinas
that roughly two minutes later 
I could still see it, in perfect detail
first in white, then in carmine

Complete with tire and
bumper cut-outs
three distinct windows, side mirrors
and a racing stripe.

On the sidewalk it appeared the same size 
it’s original had been from the street,
but somehow it shrank down
into my coffee when I went to drink.