Clarisse McClellan's Daughter

I realized what I was hearing was an ice cream truck with a playlist that, for a warm day in fairly early autumn, was downright eerie. I counted at least three Christmas songs, including some of a more religious variety, before the tunes shifted to old-fashioned, vaguely western standards and nursery rhymes, back again to carols and then away a second time.

This is one hundred percent the sort of thing that happens if you watch Sapphire & Steel. I apologize, but not really, for the contagious haunting.

I look forward to your element.