Traffic

As far back as I can remember, there was a fruit roll-up, a snowball, a confused smile, and a traffic light. There were no words being said, only images. While most will remember words, and I of all people, should be dwelling on the words, I stared at my shoes, I stared at the pigeon, and then the traffic light. I try to listen to my memory, but I only hear the sound of wheels on pavement, if anything. I try to remember feeling, but the cold didn't bother me by then.

While the world was being set back on it's pedestal, I was blanking out, words spilling out without a security check, because the guys we have in charge of that, got distracted by a light. Security check had a sudden emergency - a fire in the main control center. Fire estinguishers were blown in vain, as the visual receptors were staring at a traffic light. The verbal printer went through unedited, and the guys on security check were struggling to keep the base from burning out. They called for help from the guys they have in charge of sound. So while the main base was burning, the visual receptors, verbal printer and auditory center were all left unattented, and the memory was damaged. Instead of wise speculation and response, there was nonsense being said. Instead of picking up the most important message yet, there was nearly absolute silence. And instead of seeing a face that spelled out - everything - the only image to be found, is that of a red, flashing, traffic light.