The Stop Sign - Making Wrongs Right

It was a dark, muggy, summer night, just right for stealing a stop sign. I always seemed to have friends staying the night during my teenage years, and this night was no exception. We seemed to have been a little extra onery that night. There was a stop sign on a side road about a block from my house that had been knocked down. I came up with a plan to steal it and put it in our clubhouse in the attic. I sent one of my friends with a ratchet away to do the deed. I sat back and watched television with my other friends. Twenty minutes later, although it seemed like an eternity, my friend arrived back at the house with a stop sign in hand.

It was a decoration that brought us pride whenever we played cards in the clubhouse, but that is all it ever did during those teenage years. Then we stopped using the clubhouse. The stop sign sat there gathering layer upon layer of dust. It became a worthless relic of the beginning of a period of sin in my life. I guess I should've paid more attention to the words on the sign.

Yesterday, I called the police and asked them if I could return a stop sign I had stolen 14 years ago. I was hoping they wouldn't fine me or anything. If they did, I deserved it.

I woke up early today. It was a perfect morning. The stars were shining bright. The cool air filled my lungs. My dog hopped in the back seat of my car and we drove over to my parents house. I climbed the stairs up to the old clubhouse. My dog following me every step of the way. The clubhouse had been turned into a storage room. The stop sign had been entrapped by boxes. I pulled it out and carried it downstairs. I got out some paper towels and cleaned it. I figured it was clean when I originally stole it, and I was always taught that we should return things the way we got them.

Then I called the police again. They had asked me to call them before dropping it off to make sure someone would be at the police station when I returned it. The policeman on duty told me that he wouldn't be there and that I should just leave the sign in the hallway outside their offices. I was relieved and said okay. My dog and I hopped into the car and drove down to the police station with the stop sign, which was shining like the day it was stolen. Although it was dark outside, the lights surrounding the police station were extremely luminating. There wasn't a shadow to hide in as I pulled the stop sign out of my back seat, walked across the road, and opened the door to the police station. I laid it there gently against the wall and proceeded back to the car. It looks like I won't have to pay any fine after all.


Watch out for the Potholes.