Just thought I'd post this now before I forget. I sorta rushed this but I suppose I have no excuse if I don't edit this at all between now and the deadline which is more than likely going to be the case.
***
Mixed Signals
By Vyse
The others snickered at it whilst the two men came by on their monthly check at the lights situated under the raised bypass on the lower side of town. 5:30 pm sharp as always, right before rush hour.
“Gabranth again? Didn’t we,”
“Yeah, it was our turn last month, but the guys are replacing a traffic light downtown,”
The two men in blue overalls approached the Gabranth avenue traffic light, and opened up a side panel to check its wiring, an act Gabranth found irritating and pointless.
‘Why the hell me?’ it thought, unable to comprehend why it was the only one of the four lights at the intersection that needed maintenance. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me goddammit!’
The other traffic lights looked down on Gabranth. They did so ever since a car crashed into it a year ago. To them, Gabranth seemed not all there, which showed in the way it needed regular maintenance.
‘Just fu'cking leave!’ Gabranth ushered them away with a green light, wanting to move forward from this terrible ritual.
Whenever it went through this process, Gabranth became an isolated being. On the outside, it didn’t seem any different, but suddenly, about a year ago, it couldn’t function like the others. Since then, it came to really hate everything. The only thing it could do was try to emulate those around it; it lost its capacity as an autonomous entity.
One only needed to peer down Gabranth avenue to see the approach of rush hour. Cars darting in and around each other, completely ignoring the road laws for which Gabranth, as a traffic light, was created to enforce.
‘HEY time to slow the fu'ck down you idiots!’ Gabranth quickly shifted its lights through to red and the approaching drivers were forced to comply with its signal to stop.
“Hey idiot, watch where you’re driving dammit!” one guy yelled from a sedan, the recipient having cut him off earlier in his sports coupe. “Like I fu'cking care?” the driver yelled back, as though to impress his girlfriend sitting next to him in the front. It was this behaviour that made Gabranth’s circuits fry.
Traffic on all entrances to the intersection began to pile up, and the other traffic lights became expectant of Gabranth, who evidently didn’t notice it was his turn to let traffic go.
‘We can’t sync our lights if you don’t hurry up’ the light opposed to Gabranth prompted, waiting for Gabranth to stop cursing the drivers around them.
‘Whatever, I don’t give a sh'it…’ Gabranth sulked, turning its light green to let the drivers through.
This continued for another hour until the rush hour period ceased. The sun began to set, draping the world in a fading light, the time Gabranth hated the most.
In the distance, they could be heard. Young kids in their souped up cars, illegally racing through the city’s streets. They came every evening just to annoy Gabranth, that much it was sure of.
‘I hate them…*******s’ Gabranth fumed, knowing that they were certain to come through its intersection.
Quickly closing in came two super charged Skylines from around a corner. That day, Gabranth decided enough was enough. It had already suffered because these street racers had crashed into it. They at least walked away whole, Gabranth wasn’t destroyed, worse than that, it survived.
‘I’ll show you fu'ckers!’, another car was approaching the intersection perpendicular to Gabranth avenue, a transit van. Gabranth was supposed to turn red to stop the street racers, but held green instead.
‘Gabranth stop! No!’ the other traffic lights pleaded, but could not sway Gabranth from its course.
‘I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT IT’S FU'CKING LIKE, DAY IN AND DAY OUT. I CAN’T UNDERSTAND ANTHING BUT I’LL MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND ME!’
The three cars entered the intersection at the same time, the loud screeching of tyres abruptly ending betrayed the location of a car crash in a wide radius.
The first Skyline t-boned the transit van, whilst the second swerved to try and avoid the crash, but instead hit another target.
The next thing Gabranth knew, it was lying on the ground, several metres from where it originally stood. Wires still bound it to the system, but it could barely function anymore.
‘I can’t…what was, the point…’ its light became erratic, cycling through the colours. The light slowed and flickered amber for a moment, before finally, its malfunctioned existence ceased.
The two same maintenance men came to the scene of the crash after it had been closed off, and investigated by the police.
“A traffic light that needed maintenance every month wasn’t safe, they should’ve known that,” one commented, taking one end of Gabranth to lift it onto the truck they had driven in. The other man took the head of Gabranth, and they hoisted it onto the truck bed.
“Who the hell cares,” the other man asked rhetorically, “I sure as hell don’t”
“But I mean, it isn’t the fault of the traffic light,” the first man continued, “This city’s council is probably hoarding the money for this type of thing for themselves,” he guessed as they climbed into the truck.
The other man sat in the driver’s seat and stared down his co-worker. “If people cared, then it would be a big deal,” he looked forward again and started the ignition, “But they don’t”.
~Fin
***
This story was inspired by boredom, and an aquaintance I came to the defence of the other day as some kid tried to pay him out because of his apparent mental disability.
***
Mixed Signals
By Vyse
The others snickered at it whilst the two men came by on their monthly check at the lights situated under the raised bypass on the lower side of town. 5:30 pm sharp as always, right before rush hour.
“Gabranth again? Didn’t we,”
“Yeah, it was our turn last month, but the guys are replacing a traffic light downtown,”
The two men in blue overalls approached the Gabranth avenue traffic light, and opened up a side panel to check its wiring, an act Gabranth found irritating and pointless.
‘Why the hell me?’ it thought, unable to comprehend why it was the only one of the four lights at the intersection that needed maintenance. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me goddammit!’
The other traffic lights looked down on Gabranth. They did so ever since a car crashed into it a year ago. To them, Gabranth seemed not all there, which showed in the way it needed regular maintenance.
‘Just fu'cking leave!’ Gabranth ushered them away with a green light, wanting to move forward from this terrible ritual.
Whenever it went through this process, Gabranth became an isolated being. On the outside, it didn’t seem any different, but suddenly, about a year ago, it couldn’t function like the others. Since then, it came to really hate everything. The only thing it could do was try to emulate those around it; it lost its capacity as an autonomous entity.
One only needed to peer down Gabranth avenue to see the approach of rush hour. Cars darting in and around each other, completely ignoring the road laws for which Gabranth, as a traffic light, was created to enforce.
‘HEY time to slow the fu'ck down you idiots!’ Gabranth quickly shifted its lights through to red and the approaching drivers were forced to comply with its signal to stop.
“Hey idiot, watch where you’re driving dammit!” one guy yelled from a sedan, the recipient having cut him off earlier in his sports coupe. “Like I fu'cking care?” the driver yelled back, as though to impress his girlfriend sitting next to him in the front. It was this behaviour that made Gabranth’s circuits fry.
Traffic on all entrances to the intersection began to pile up, and the other traffic lights became expectant of Gabranth, who evidently didn’t notice it was his turn to let traffic go.
‘We can’t sync our lights if you don’t hurry up’ the light opposed to Gabranth prompted, waiting for Gabranth to stop cursing the drivers around them.
‘Whatever, I don’t give a sh'it…’ Gabranth sulked, turning its light green to let the drivers through.
This continued for another hour until the rush hour period ceased. The sun began to set, draping the world in a fading light, the time Gabranth hated the most.
In the distance, they could be heard. Young kids in their souped up cars, illegally racing through the city’s streets. They came every evening just to annoy Gabranth, that much it was sure of.
‘I hate them…*******s’ Gabranth fumed, knowing that they were certain to come through its intersection.
Quickly closing in came two super charged Skylines from around a corner. That day, Gabranth decided enough was enough. It had already suffered because these street racers had crashed into it. They at least walked away whole, Gabranth wasn’t destroyed, worse than that, it survived.
‘I’ll show you fu'ckers!’, another car was approaching the intersection perpendicular to Gabranth avenue, a transit van. Gabranth was supposed to turn red to stop the street racers, but held green instead.
‘Gabranth stop! No!’ the other traffic lights pleaded, but could not sway Gabranth from its course.
‘I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT IT’S FU'CKING LIKE, DAY IN AND DAY OUT. I CAN’T UNDERSTAND ANTHING BUT I’LL MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND ME!’
The three cars entered the intersection at the same time, the loud screeching of tyres abruptly ending betrayed the location of a car crash in a wide radius.
The first Skyline t-boned the transit van, whilst the second swerved to try and avoid the crash, but instead hit another target.
The next thing Gabranth knew, it was lying on the ground, several metres from where it originally stood. Wires still bound it to the system, but it could barely function anymore.
‘I can’t…what was, the point…’ its light became erratic, cycling through the colours. The light slowed and flickered amber for a moment, before finally, its malfunctioned existence ceased.
The two same maintenance men came to the scene of the crash after it had been closed off, and investigated by the police.
“A traffic light that needed maintenance every month wasn’t safe, they should’ve known that,” one commented, taking one end of Gabranth to lift it onto the truck they had driven in. The other man took the head of Gabranth, and they hoisted it onto the truck bed.
“Who the hell cares,” the other man asked rhetorically, “I sure as hell don’t”
“But I mean, it isn’t the fault of the traffic light,” the first man continued, “This city’s council is probably hoarding the money for this type of thing for themselves,” he guessed as they climbed into the truck.
The other man sat in the driver’s seat and stared down his co-worker. “If people cared, then it would be a big deal,” he looked forward again and started the ignition, “But they don’t”.
~Fin
***
This story was inspired by boredom, and an aquaintance I came to the defence of the other day as some kid tried to pay him out because of his apparent mental disability.
