Stop and Go Country
Our impression of ritual impurity was supported as we pulled up to a T in the road.
It was a day in late September, and I was teaching my teenage daughter how to drive, so we left the small city in which we live, and took to the less-traveled country roads.
The rural scene was bucolic, I might say, if I knew what “bucolic” means. It sounds like an infectious condition.
This impression of ritual rural impurity was supported as we pulled up to a T in the road. On the right side of the road was a stop sign. On the left side of the road was a white ceramic toilet.
It was stop and go.
