I’m late to work, across the street from my job, waiting for the light to change, watching the traffic fill up the intersection.
With a wave of his hand, the traffic cop conjures the cars to a standstill to let the lanes empty, and I take the opportunity to cross against the light.
But just as I’m almost across the intersection, he urges them back into motion, and I have to run the last few steps to make the curb, with an eager car passing inches from heels.
I wonder for a brief moment if I made it, and if I didn’t - would I know?
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