The Crowd and the Traffic

A man lies down in the center of the road. Two different outcomes to the same situation.

The Crowd

 

One day walking home from work an old man realized he was tired. He left his briefcase behind on the pavement and walked into the center of an intersection and lay down with his legs stretched out and his arms splayed above his head. The whole world fell away and he was confronted with a vast expanse of gray sky outlined by the tops of the highest skyscrapers. He soon grew bored and closed his eyes. The neurotic symphony of unrelenting car horns lulled him to sleep.

            Impatient faces idled behind dashboards. Some fell silent. Others shouted. Some opened their windows and honked their horns. Others closed their windows and turned up the radio. Hordes of people stood clustered on the sidewalk.

            A young woman emerged from the group and stepped onto the pavement. She kicked a pair of high-heels to the curb and ran into the street. She bent down beside the old man, her long brown hair creating a curtain between them and the rest of the world. After a few moments of discussion, she flipped onto her back and lay down beside the old man. The sound of car horns began to fade gradually.

            There was the sound of a car door opening. A young man in a neatly ironed suit stepped out and walked across the road towards the old man and the woman. Before his knee had touched the ground, a second man emerged from the crowd of spectators watching on the sidewalk, then a third, then a fourth. The sound of car horns grew softer and softer, coming only from the very end of the colorful line of interrupted cars. A teenage boy stepped out of an old truck and walked solemnly towards the intersection. A mother guided her son and daughter to sit down beside him. A taxi cab driver and his passenger opened their doors. A bearded man dismounted his motorcycle. The crowd on the sidewalk surged forward, all eager to be part of this strange ritual which they had never before seen and did not fully understand.

A man looked out a window from one of the tallest skyscrapers at the endless line of cars and the colorful mass of people crowding at the center of the busiest intersection and wondered idly if the world was coming to an end.

 

The Traffic

 

One day walking home from work an old man realized he was tired. He left his briefcase behind on the pavement and walked into the center of an intersection and lay down with his legs stretched out and his arms splayed above his head. Brakes screeched as cars came to a halt. People shouted. The blaring sound of car horns filled the air. A man heard the noise and looked out a window from one of the tallest skyscrapers and watched as a bright yellow taxi squeezed past a halted SUV, sped through the intersection, and left a dark red stain across the center of the road.

The man turned away from the window, took three steps towards his desk, and collapsed in his chair. He clutched the wooden edge of the desk and took deep, calming breaths. “Happens every day,” he said to himself, as he clutched the arms of the chair to stop his hands from shaking.

He finally got the shaking to stop, but didn’t have the courage to return to the window. He poured himself a drink and sat there sipping it for some time. Sirens blared in the distance. He opened his briefcase and read through a file with special attention. After he’d finished, he checked his watch. Five-twenty. Feeling empowered, he got to his feet and returned to the window. The street below was colored by flashing red-blue lights and an orange-yellow swarm of men wearing reflective vests. An endless line of cars stretched out behind them. The man glanced at his watch again and sighed. Traffic was going to be terrible. 

Author's Note

I'm trying to revise this story for a class so any feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks!