No Parking

“No, no,” he said, “I’ll just do it by hand.”
He dipped his wide brush in the bucket of red paint and very methodically traced a circle onto the wall. Then he bisected it with a diagonal line, as straight as he could make it, through the large black P.
“There,” he said, as all the other workers looked on.
“A bit crooked,” said one.
“Wonky, but pretty good,” said another.
To this day, drivers seldom approach this barren warehouse sign, as if it were a talisman warding off their nosing cars, as if its crookedness gave it human power.