A beep was all I heard, triggering my emotions. Let me explain. I walk to Safeway most days.
The dicey part is crossing 11th St. A million cars do race past. I hesitate locating a crosswalk, generating a mass halt, making a big deal out of it so I watch for a big enough opening enabling me to flit across, avoiding complicating things for everybody.
Twice in the past week I made an error of judgment; I stepped off the curb too early. I stepped back, waiting for the right time. Each occasion I was greeted by a short beep, a driver noticing my intent, misstep, caution and confusion, halted the flow of traffic beckoned me across.
I waved and skipped over, noticing the tears in my eyes.
Norman Fleishman
Lakeport
Originally Published:
