The traffic light The traffic light One morning the traffic lights in the square behaved strangely: all the lights became a beautiful blue color, so intense that it seemed to have come down from the sky. People didn't know what to do: cross or not? Motorists rattled and thrilled; motorcyclists roared the exhaust of their motorcycles; some pedestrians, wittier than others, shouted: They took the green to paint the grass in the park! The red used it to dye the fish in the tank! With yellow, they painted the swan beak of the pond! Finally, a policeman arrived and stood in the middle of the intersection and began to direct the traffic with his arms and a whistle. Poor things! He sighed at the traffic lights I had turned blue to give free way to the sky. If they understood now everyone would know how to fly. But perhaps he lacked courage.