Francis’ brothers

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Remember that day many months ago when I saw my first traffic light in Kazakhstan?

It all seemed very far away now. Kazakhstan was presumably covered in snow. The Caboose was in Iran, where people had taken to the streets to protest. And I was at home with a bad foot.

The thing about traffic lights is they’re supposed to tell you when you can go and when you can’t:


I remember I gave the first traffic light I saw in Kazakhstan a name. It was a hot summer day. There were not many cars around. I called it Francis.

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