Traffic Lights

[squirmelia]

She walked through a car-park and saw a lorry that said "tender cuts" on the side. Then she shuffled along the pavement by the traffic lights, waiting for the lights to change from red to orange and then to green. It had felt like she had been standing there for ages, when actually it was only a few seconds. She kept her head turned towards the lights themselves, and not to where the green man would eventually appear. She looked at the traffic lights adoringly and felt like she wanted to wrap her arms around them and hold them tenderly. For that moment, the traffic lights had complete control over her. If it had flashed up on one of the lights that she should throw an acorn at the next moving car, she probably would have. The gaze of the traffic lights was strong, and the black spiked structures towering over her, alluring. She wondered if she might like to stay there, at the traffic light, always, never managing to quite cross the road. It was then that the lights became infused with colour. She quite simply crossed the road, and noticed a tiny stray feather amongst the chestnuts, before walking on.