I don’t understand
the obnoxiously shiny stop sign all perked up at the intersection of two skinny
alleyways. A scooter would have a hard time navigating the narrow ravine of
blue concrete that makes up this “road.” I certainly can’t entertain the notion
of any motorized vehicle that would be tiny enough to encounter that confusing
stop sign. Maybe that’s why this alleyway is clean, lacks traffic, and looks
relatively inviting. Except for the stop sign. If I were one of the scraggly
weeds stretching out of one of the many vents that line that miniscule road,
that stop sign would probably discourage me as soon as I gathered the strength
to look up. Somehow, that bright octagon lives with itself, blushing profusely.
As if it were sorry. As if.
Sage
7-25-12
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