Jonathon stood at the street crossing and waited for the light to change. He had to eventually get to the other side of the street, although the need wasn’t pressing.
The crossing light had changed just as he got there.
“Good thing I’m not in a hurry, ‘cause I’m not sure how long this will take, he thought.”
Jonathan didn’t cross the street very often.
He walked over and pushed the button.
“I’ve heard that the button doesn’t do anything,” he thought. It doesn’t seem to be doing anything now, “that’s for sure.”
A bit of a cool wind hit his cheek, and Jonathon looked up at the sky.
He hadn’t noticed that the lights had changed.
“Bit of a front coming in?” he wondered. This morning had been a perfect (at least for him,) 72 degrees, the first perfect day since the passing of winter. He had indulged in the whole day, and the weather was actually what had brought him out to walk. He looked up again as if to will any possible cold wind to return to where it came.
He hadn’t noticed that the lights had changed back.
“Damn this is a long light,” he thought. “I do suppose this is one of the busier streets, being downtown and all, but seriously.”
His patience wearing thin and the traffic seeming clear, he took a step off the curb, only to be violently chastised by the horn of a car turning right on red.
He jumped back up to the safety of the curb, heart beating hard.
“There was no way he was going to stop!” Jonathon reacted indignantly, throwing up his hands in the air toward the departing car. He stared angrily at the taillights for a minute or too, not really appreciating the absurdity of staring down a departing advesary.”
He saw the car have to stop a couple of lights up the street, and laughed to himself, as if justice had finally caught up.
Then he looked up at the light in his direction just as it turned red. He looked at the Pedestrian Crossing light. “Damn,” he thought, “Got distracted by that idiot driver and missed my chance.”
As he again waited, Jonathon looked around at the streets. “How can they make a bridge out of concrete, and it never has holes in it, but in a few years, these streets have holes all over them?” He began counting the holes.
Jonathon never did make it across the street.