Snap of the Chevron

I slipped out from the canvas tote pocket onto the cool perforated steel bench of a downtown bus shelter. Coiled loosely around the vertical grab pole was a neon-yellow reflective slap band stamped with bold black chevrons. I stepped up, gripped both edges with my hands, and bent the spring steel outward against its tension. With a sharp, resonant slap, the band snapped completely flat, flashing its high-contrast arrows in the midday glare. Lining it up evenly against the brushed metal post, I tapped the center until it instantly curled back around the tube in a tight, seamless grip. That clean mechanical response fit the city tempo perfectly.