It's a sort of freezing morning, no matter that the summer hasn't ended yet. Walking towards the bus stop, I go through the familiar neighborhood, staring at the noisy parrots -who trade the small square's tall trees for cables-, and testing different turns along the sidewalks, just to try and break the routine established between me and the possibilities offered to me by the urban design.
Right where the friendly and peaceful neighborhood ends, the traffic lights announce the inevitable crossing of The Street. Seemingly placed there to give continuity to the path that brings together the highest mountains with the coast, the eternal glaciers with warm beaches, The Street's six tracks -no islands in between- threat anyone naive enough to think that tranquility could have lasted more than some blocks.
However, there's no point for anyone who heads downtown to stay on my side of the street, and so one is to be aidded by pedestrian's traffic lights to survive the daring challenge of going right through the road uniting the mountains and the sea. The previous blocks should’ave helped on you building yourself the necessary self esteem to beat the ‘who am I to oppose to the marriage of the biggest ocean and the longest mountain range on Earth?’
I wont walk as long as the traffic lights meet my eyes in that reddish mood of theirs. It doesn’t matter to me that not even a feather is flying along the tracks blown by the morning breeze: I am just too proud to let that cynical attitude of ‘desperately running towards where you are not welcomed’ to kick in. So yes, I would wait. There’s nothing wrong in looking that dumb. Nevertheless, it can get dumb: when I know the lights are about to change –since we have been knowing each other for some years now, and I am able to crack those subtle details- and they wont give me enough time to get to the middle of the street, I will still stick to my sidewalk while the traffic lights greet me with their greens and the motorists turn into spectators awaiting for me to make the audacious move. So no matter how sure I feel about it, it just looks dumb since there’s no one moving.
That’s why I do my best for reaching the crossing at any time except that precise one. In spite of it being the tiniest moment in the traffic lights honorable cycle, I somehow manage it to arrive to the corner at the exact time at which I wont get to the other shore of The Street without turning my peaceful walk into a rushed one. It doesn’t matter I leave home some minutes earlier, some minutes later, it will turn out happening that way.
One day it was different: it was one of those days you could say it was going to be a perfect one, right after you left home in the morning, one of those you could tell Fate is watching out for you. I couldn’t help to put my mood and predisposition to test with the traffic lights. And so, I forgot about the peaceful walking through the last blocks of my neighborhood, rushing towards the crossroad: I was pretty convinced that that day it would be different. And it was.
In the rush, I forgot not only about the parrots but noticing the traffic lights, and it was already too late when my eyes stumbled across with that unique and familiar traffic light moment in which I feel dumb. Fate had surely done me a favor that day, but how was it going to know I would be dumb enough to forget my dear peace walking through the friendly neighborhood and spoil its gift with my hurried steps: after all, it’s Fate, but it’s also just Fate, what can we do about it, and what can it do about us.
Right where the friendly and peaceful neighborhood ends, the traffic lights announce the inevitable crossing of The Street. Seemingly placed there to give continuity to the path that brings together the highest mountains with the coast, the eternal glaciers with warm beaches, The Street's six tracks -no islands in between- threat anyone naive enough to think that tranquility could have lasted more than some blocks.
However, there's no point for anyone who heads downtown to stay on my side of the street, and so one is to be aidded by pedestrian's traffic lights to survive the daring challenge of going right through the road uniting the mountains and the sea. The previous blocks should’ave helped on you building yourself the necessary self esteem to beat the ‘who am I to oppose to the marriage of the biggest ocean and the longest mountain range on Earth?’
I wont walk as long as the traffic lights meet my eyes in that reddish mood of theirs. It doesn’t matter to me that not even a feather is flying along the tracks blown by the morning breeze: I am just too proud to let that cynical attitude of ‘desperately running towards where you are not welcomed’ to kick in. So yes, I would wait. There’s nothing wrong in looking that dumb. Nevertheless, it can get dumb: when I know the lights are about to change –since we have been knowing each other for some years now, and I am able to crack those subtle details- and they wont give me enough time to get to the middle of the street, I will still stick to my sidewalk while the traffic lights greet me with their greens and the motorists turn into spectators awaiting for me to make the audacious move. So no matter how sure I feel about it, it just looks dumb since there’s no one moving.
That’s why I do my best for reaching the crossing at any time except that precise one. In spite of it being the tiniest moment in the traffic lights honorable cycle, I somehow manage it to arrive to the corner at the exact time at which I wont get to the other shore of The Street without turning my peaceful walk into a rushed one. It doesn’t matter I leave home some minutes earlier, some minutes later, it will turn out happening that way.
One day it was different: it was one of those days you could say it was going to be a perfect one, right after you left home in the morning, one of those you could tell Fate is watching out for you. I couldn’t help to put my mood and predisposition to test with the traffic lights. And so, I forgot about the peaceful walking through the last blocks of my neighborhood, rushing towards the crossroad: I was pretty convinced that that day it would be different. And it was.
In the rush, I forgot not only about the parrots but noticing the traffic lights, and it was already too late when my eyes stumbled across with that unique and familiar traffic light moment in which I feel dumb. Fate had surely done me a favor that day, but how was it going to know I would be dumb enough to forget my dear peace walking through the friendly neighborhood and spoil its gift with my hurried steps: after all, it’s Fate, but it’s also just Fate, what can we do about it, and what can it do about us.
خِرمان
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