Cross ways

 
Lines like fat white chalk beckoned, but the flashing orange “HALT” said stay put. Patience, he thought. Consent came, and he minded his path with face-down attentiveness. A shadow halted movement, turned the white to gray, and he looked into the face of familiarity.

“I still hate you,” it said.
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Fashawn, Ecology