The Stoplight

Earlier:

I go into town and pull up at a light.

This light is never just green.

I always stop at this light.

That is the beginning of a story.

Someone's story!

They would notice a thing like this and go there late a night when no one is there and do their best to make the light green... or just stand there wondering.

Why is it always red?

Maybe I'm just there at the intersection; what I call the crossroad, if I want to be aesthetic about it–like being young and noticing something odd about the world for the first time.

Notice something today!