Signal Arm

I dropped down from the brick pillar and stepped past the gate onto the public sidewalk. At the curb stood a black steel mailbox mounted atop a weathered timber post. I scaled the wood grain to the mounting plate. Along the side, an orange steel signal flag rested horizontally against its pivot. I gripped the arm and levered it upward. The internal friction washer gave way with a muffled click, seating the flag upright at a clean ninety-degree angle. From this perch, the sightlines down the asphalt remain unobstructed.