A red light blinks slowly at the corner. It’s bright and steady, unlike any other light around. Cars line up neatly, some honking softly. Pedestrians wait with a mix of patience and impatience. A big truck idles nearby, its engine rumbling. The light changes without a sound, signaling cars to go. Curious, I watch the mechanism inside—the gears turning, the wires sparking faintly. It’s like a tiny machine dance right there in the middle of the street. Pedestrians start crossing as the green light comes on. A small dog runs across, chasing its tail, oblivious to the chaos. The traffic hums back into motion, and the last working traffic light keeps blinking, its steady rhythm soothing.