Stoplight

Morning dawned at the stoplight where Grigor had been waiting for seventeen years; it had not turned green yet, and so he was patient.

"Still no luck, Grigor?" asked Mrs. Fuller as she brought him breakfast from her restaurant. He shook his head and smiled his thanks.

Another car sped past, on the road where the light was always green. Sometimes Grigor wondered what it must be like on that other road; he had never seen the same car twice. In the meantime, Jorge would soon visit on his morning jog, and Mrs. Fuller said she'd make strawberry shortcake later.