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The Stoplight (VI)

In by Chris on August 18, 2010 at 3:15 pm

Sheila scrambled across the crosswalk as the light turned a somnolent amber, after the commuters billowing away from her and the unseen thief. But something stopped her in the darkening median.

Then, punctured by sporadic honks from cars hurtling past, she deflated, every cell in her worn body spilling out as the stoplight-tomato-face drooped and expanded, filling the whole intersection.

“…the world, and everything possible and impossible is happening, somewhere, this moment. Almost everything. That little sliver of possibility, of untried combinations and hidden realizations, where she has arrived…”

The stoplight’s ponderous eyes dropped long tears on Sheila’s melted form.


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