(Not) At crossroads
The handful of times I have had the privilege of witnessing a vehicle stop for me while I cross the road, I have initially been struck with relief and an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I find myself trying to thank the driver nonverbally via a thumbs-up or a smile after they pass, hoping my appreciation reaches them through their windshield. After crossing the road, I briefly catch myself smiling at the gesture before being pulled back to the ground, usually by the sound of a horn.
