THE CROSSWALK STRIPE

October 11, 2014

crosswalk stripe

One midnight in San Francisco a crosswalk’s third stripe from the curb finally had had enough.

‘I’m sick and tired of people walking on me and buses and trucks and cars rolling over me,’ it announced loudly. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘You can’t leave,’ said its neighbor, 2nd from the curb.

‘Watch me,’ snapped the third stripe.

It struggled and strained, rippling up into a loop of a hoop. Then, having no idea what to do next, it rolled off down the hill toward the bay.

‘Where are you headed?’ asked a lamppost.

‘Mind your own business,’ snarled the stripe.

‘You don’t have to be so cross,’ said the lamppost.

‘Yes I do, dimwit. I was part of a stupid crosswalk,’ replied the unpleasant stripe.

The stripe continued its roll down to the bay, where it dove in and swam wriggling like a giant eel under water until it came to a spot near a bridge where it decided to live forever. And so it did, happily exchanging insults with rude mermaids.

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