You're walking down the street with your friends. You're having fun. There comes a moment when the conversation turns to something important. You can all feel it. One more moment and you'll all have that feeling that you've gotten somewhere together. At that moment, you are going through reconstruction – the road workers are repairing a piece of pavement. You hear the loud noise of their work tools, through which you can't make out the voices of your friends and you don't know what they are saying. You raise your voice to finish a sentence and you still can't be heard, no one understands you. You talk even though you know your friends can't understand you. Your friends do the same thing. And nobody understands anybody. You can't be heard even though you're talking. In the glimpses of silence between the beats of the machines, you hear fragments of words. You piece them together into sentences that make no sense. You look at your friends in wonder. They look at you. There are bystanders on the sides of the road. They're holding a road sign that says We need to fix this.