Junctions / Decisions
by Jowell Tan
So there you are, standing at the lip of the pavement, just before the concrete of the walkway becomes the tar of the road.
You look up across the intersection, the cars for a brief moment all stopped for the red circles of the traffic lights in the four corners. Next to you, the mother tightens her grip on her stroller. The young teenager tears her gaze from her mobile phone for an instant.
Then the red stationary man gives way to the green man, complete with the LED bulbs blinking to show the walking animation. The traffic of cars transforms into the traffic of footsteps. People from both ends surge forward toward each other, waves of humanity intersecting with each other in the middle and arriving on the opposite ends.
Except you - You're stuck. Rooted to the same spot. People have to maneuver around you to get going. You hear intermittent clucks of disapproval, excuse-mes from different voices, even the occasional "what the hell?" from clearly miffed pedestrians whose way you're blocking with your inaction.
Above the green walking man the number 30 appears. 29, 28 - This is your last chance to get across before it turns red. The footfalls grow louder, the tempo cranks up faster. Yet you remain unmoved, eyes affixed on the descending timer.
25,24,23 - "Are you even going to cross?"
20, 19, 18 - "Can you please not block the way? People are in a rush here!"
13, 12, 11 - "Dammit, move!"
The numbers continue to fall, rhythmic, unfeeling, uncaring of the people still left on the road.
5 - The road starts to clear of people, the cars start quietly revving their engines.
4 - Your left foot lifts up.
3 - Your left foot takes a step forward.
2 - Your left foot lands on the space before you.
1 - You see that you've run out of time. You quickly retreat back to the curb.
Zero.
The red man returns, the green walking man becomes a green circle. The cars begin their move. And you're still where you were before, waiting 2 minutes for the cycle to begin again.
======
Now, I could tell you that this whole story was a metaphor for how some people are so afraid of change that they hold themselves back and stay stagnant while others move forward and leave them behind, but you don't need such hand-holding - you're old enough to make your own decisions about the things you read.
What do you think it means?
|
2
favs |
1041 views
2 comments |
423 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
Crossing the road as a metaphor for making life decisions - Or whatever you want it to mean. As long as it affects you.
Other stories by Jowell Tan
Tags
Comments
You must
log in
to post comments.
Momentarily paralysed. Like a mental block.
Enjoyed.
In the spirit of constructive criticism.
This piece reminded me of D F Wallace's story "Forever Overhead" (in "Brief Interviews with Hideous Men"), in which a kid ("you") stands on the edge of a diving tower, a line of divers on the ladder behind him, delayed by his forever pause while he stands on the edge, looking far down.
The first half of this has that feeling. It is highly cinematic. The second not so much (in my opinion, obviously). The reasons (for me): the countdown seems mechanistic; the premise that people would react with such annoyed aggression is not convincing ("People are in a rush here." - in the DFW story someone, very reasonably and with some wit, says to the kid: "Hey kid. They want to know. Do your plans up here involve the whole day or what exactly is the story.").
But mainly, the final part strikes me as post-modern imitative. Addressing the reader so off-handedly doesn't work here for me. Insofar as the preceding might have some serious intent, the coda acts to trivialise it. ("Now, I could tell you ... ") Consequently, why would anyone want to answer the final question of something which the author has so intimated doesn't really possess any deep philosophical content? Posing it as a metaphor is strained. Therefore, the defence of the piece has to be in some presumed irony or humour - and that doesn't really fly either. It's left as an attempt to give closure to something which is too slight to allow a more substantive conclusion.
Despite these reservations, I think the piece is quite interesting. The first part is excellent, and each of the one-sentence paragraphs could be fleshed out into a convincing internal drama. That is exactly the approach that DFW took with a similar starting point.
DFW ends his 12 page story with this:
The board will nod and you will go, and eyes of skin can cross blind into a cloud-blotched sky, punctured light emptying behind sharp stone that is forever. That is forever. Step into the skin and disappear.
Hello.