Turning lane only.

I like watching turning lanes at red lights.  The headlights blink evenly, signaling sometimes in unison to their common route. I usually count them as they fall into sync.  I follow the long stretch of flashes, see them hop between cars as they mark their path with insistence against the dim, rush hour sky.  Then, as a different light flickers color above, they swiftly extinguish and move on in a single, silent direction past my window.