Dear orange traffic cone on I-35,
We first met in 2019. You were young then, bright orange, standing tall beside a freshly dug hole.
It is now 2026. You are faded. You are tilted. The hole beside you has been filled, dug again, filled again, and is currently open for the third time.
But you remain. A constant in an ever-changing world.
I have changed jobs three times since you appeared. I have moved twice. I got married. I had a child. My child is now in school.
You are still here.
I have seen construction workers near you on exactly four occasions. Twice they were eating lunch. Once they were looking at the hole. Once they were placing MORE of you in a row.
The speed limit sign near you says 45 but nobody has ever gone 45 here because traffic is stopped. Always. Eternally.
I have started to think of you not as a traffic cone but as a monument. A memorial to the concept of "progress." A philosophical statement about the human condition.
I will pass you again tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that.
Forever yours, Every DFW driver
Real talk — what are your thoughts?