From above, these streets in Bucharest seem eager to connect. They dart towards each other, straight ahead, no windings. But less than half a kilometer farther, they end in a larger road. Separated by it, they never get to meet.
On the sidewalks and on the road, children play ball, climb fences, hide behind trees. They rollerblade and ride bikes. The boys tease the girls: “Who wants a candy bar smushed under the wheel?” The girls complain to their parents that boys won’t leave them alone. Lazy dogs watch them with the same indifference as they would strangers.
In the evening, when the outlines of buildings begin to fade, dogs and cats, adults and children, neighbors gather around plastic tables and chairs. Under the moonlight and street lights they share, as the case may be, leftovers, beer, cigarettes, games, and ideas. The street belongs to them all.