#141: Intersection

[F.U.C.K. is an e-zine that I started on January 24, 1993 and ended on January 24, 2000. One concept is that articles should be timeless if possible, so they were not released with dates. As such, the date on this blog is not exact but I will try to use a date as close as possible.]

It was a sweltering day which had no pretenses of letting up. Over a thousand people had driven through the intersection today, and another thousand would be through there in the next hour. The crossroads weren’t the busiest in the town by far, but saw a fair amount of traffic during rush hour. Cars zipped by creating a steady hum throughout the intersection, giving it a life of its own.

Twenty-four seconds had passed, and it was almost time for the lights to change, allowing the smaller of the two roads to empty out. A click resounded, unheard by anyone, and the light changed to yellow. Five cars noticed and accelerated to beat the oncoming red light. Another click and the light changed to red, allowing two more cars to squeeze through.

The first car slowed to a rough stop, almost going too far into the intersection. Inside the car, the air conditioner was on high, blowing into the face of the mayor. In one hand was a pen jotting down notes, and in the other a cell phone. Despite his status, no one recognized him in his Cadillac. He was on his way to a meeting with the police commissioner, and was already five minutes late.

Pulling up next to him in a dark blue suburban, a woman in her mid forties pulled out her lipstick and began to apply it. In the seat next to her, her three year old son began yelling about being thirsty. The back seat was the playground for her six year old son and eight year old daughter. Behind the back seat were seven bags of groceries. They were on their way home to make dinner for John when he got home from his business meetings.

In the third lane, a beat up Chevy nova stopped several feet short of the white line. All of the windows were down allowing the hot air into the car. The man behind the wheel tapped his finger to the beat of the music, apparently dreading the heat of the day. Darting from side to side, his eyes couldn’t stay in one place. He was still worried about being seen by someone that may recognize him for his actions last night. He had raped and beaten a 72 year old lady walking home from the local coffee shop.

A loud screech sounded behind the Cadillac, and the driver cursed and yelled at the boy in the passenger seat. They were seated in a two door sports car that was the pride and joy of the driving father. He turned again to his son and cursed at the boy for making him take his eyes off the road. Reaching over, he placed his hand on the crotch of the boy and squeezed hard, making the boy yell out in pain. “I’m gonna punish you later for this boy”.

Pulling up behind the suburban, a black Geo metro came to a quick stop. The twenty four year old driver looked all around him at the other vehicles before popping in another tape. Taking note of the screaming boy in the car next to him, he glared at the driver of the car to his left and sneered as they made eye contact. Shaking his head in disdain, he picked up his Oki and called his friend to tell him he would be a few minutes late to lunch. They were meeting to make plans for their next hack into another military computer in search of documents that should be open to the public.

Behind the Chevy nova, a young black man pulled up, smiling behind the wheel of his new Lexus. He had gotten his promotion to Regional Manager of the southwest, and had received a hefty bonus check as well as a significant pay raise. The new car was a gift to his new wife waiting at home. He had been with the company for only six years and seemed to be flying through the ranks due to his eight years of business administration in college. Things were going well for him.

The next car rolled up behind the sports car and inched up slowly, as the driver waited for the light to change. He was still not used to driving in this state. He had moved here just last week after he watched local police and FBI break down his door in Ohio. He was wanted by the FBI for the killing of seven people at a convenience store in Maryland. He barely remembered that day, but was still on the run because of it.

Behind the Geo shaking from the music, a four door white sedan with government plates pulled to a steady stop. The driver’s mission was surveillance, and nothing more. He was a twenty two year veteran of the secret service, and specialized in computer crime. He had been tailing the Cadillac for several miles, monitoring the cell phone conversation on his own cell phone. His main objective on this assignment was to prove that the mayor was laundering the cities money and dumping it into his own accounts in Switzerland.

Twenty-four seconds had passed, and the light clicked to green allowing traffic to once again pass through the intersection. Almost as a group, the cars accelerated, heading toward their own direction, to live their lives as they wanted.

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