Signal Strike

I kicked the steel washer clear of the pole base and surveyed the vertical ascent. Clamped along the galvanized upright, a ridged metal conduit led directly to the yellow push-button housing. Direct route. I grabbed the heavy pipe clamp, dug my boots into the zinc seam, and hauled upward hand over hand until I cleared the top ridge of the casing. Right at eye level sat the oversized stainless steel button. No hesitation. I braced one hand against the yellow alloy shell, swung my boots back, and drove both heels flush into the steel plate. The button sank with a loud mechanical clunk. Overhead, the crimson indicator bulb flashed bright and an audible chirp sliced clean through the street noise. Crosswalk primed.