The Fourth Circle
I can’t remember the time when the Fourth Circle was actually a circle. My mother says it used to be a circle at some point, but as far back as my memory remembers, it was always an intersection with the traffic lights that took forever.
As I write this, a million incidents and conversations that happened while waiting for the green light make me feel nostalgic. So many conversations, so many cars, so many people. Going to get ice cream from McDonald’s very late at night with my brothers; worrying about my manual car’s tagweemeh on the steep side of the intersection; my mother telling me the difference between “Park” and “Neutral”.
Now, after a very long time of detours, the Fourth Circle has actually returned to being a circle, round and big, which I suppose is more suitable for its name.
I guess I’m over emotional or something when it comes to stone.
