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Traffic Lights: Thoughts on life and contentment.
Posted by Sylvan Sylph, Mar 13, 2008. 1520 views. ID = 831

Traffic Lights

Posted by Sylvan Sylph, Mar 13, 2008. 1520 views. ID = 831
This post was written in 8 minutes.
A lot can go through my mind in one minute.
This post has been awarded 30 stars by 7 readers.

Red light.

I press the brake pedal, sighing inwardly as the car slows to a stop. My mind disengages. I stare blankly across the street, wishing I were already there, driving between the two buildings with neon lights glowing in their windows. A flickering draws my eye to a neon sign boldly announcing, "Blinds," in large red letters. I feel my impatience flicker in response. I vaguely wonder how much time will pass before the sign burns out, and the flickering turns to darkness. I know that I don't really care, as long as I am well gone from here by then.

I spend too much time at traffic lights.


My eye wanders to the sign's companion. Its red glow advertises for shutters. I want to know why someone uses neon signs to advertise for shutters. It seems strange to me. I begin thinking about neon gas, trying to remember high school chemistry. I imagine I can recall that neon gas is poisonous, but I can't really remember. It's been too long.

I find it odd how time makes us forget things, more so how we make up things to fill in the gaps.

My eye crosses to the other building, a pizza shop. Neon signs light every pane of the glass storefront. Perhaps the blinds and shutters shop was only trying to avoid being lost in the glow. I briefly consider that if neon gas really is poisonous, and all the signs in the store break, everyone present will probably die.

It occurs to me that I think morbid thoughts when I'm bored.

I watch a blue neon arrow flash on one of the signs. I start to read it, but I don't pay enough attention to understand the words. I dislike neon signs. They are gaudy and intrusive. I don't want to look at it anymore, but the flashing keeps me staring.

I wish the traffic light would turn green.


Cars drive past, between me and the blue arrow. I don’t really notice them. Some part of my mind sees the white and red of the lights as they go by. Irrational irritation flares. I am annoyed to be sitting here, waiting, while they move past. Reason reminds me that everyone must take a turn at waiting. My time will come. I need to have patience.

The blue arrow is still flashing. I keep staring. I try to figure out how one minute can last so long.

I find myself wondering if I live my life as if it is just a series of red lights: brief stops, sometimes seeming to last an eternity, which I cannot enjoy because I am impatiently preoccupied with racing toward the next.

Green light.

Copyright 2008 Sylvan Sylph. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
 


   
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Comments


Josiah T.
Mar 14, 2008
Ya know, I've found that if you go the speed limit through the city, if you hit them at the right time, you can just sail right through the green lights. :-)
   ~Posted by Josiah T., Mar 14, 2008

Sylvan Sylph
Mar 14, 2008
I used to be able to do that when I lived in Maine. Since moving they have become a more significant part of my life than they used to be. Unfortunately, where I am now, there are entirely too many to be able to accomplish that.
   ~Posted by Sylvan Sylph, Mar 14, 2008

Aimster du Clarkentine
Mar 15, 2008
Your flow of consciousness is entertaining. ;)
   ~Posted by Aimster du Clarkentine, Mar 15, 2008



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