I’ve never in my life seen a four-word sentence made up entirely of constraining words. Then I noticed a traffic sign near my house: “END BRAKE RETARDER PROHIBITION.”

I love that phrase because it feels like an Easter egg I wasn’t meant to find.

End.

Brake.

Retarder.

Prohibition.

Every word is about stopping, slowing, restraining, or forbidding. It’s a sentence bursting with friction.

What makes it even better is that the sign appears as part of a two-sign sequence. A hundred or so yards earlier, there’s an initial traffic sign that reads: “BRAKE RETARDER PROHIBITION.”

So this first sign says no. The second sign says the no is over. And somehow the most restrictive-sounding sign of the two is the one that restores permission. Too cool!

When I looked it up, I learned that the phrase End Brake Retarder Prohibition is perfectly clear to the people it’s written for (truckers). It does exactly what it’s supposed to do.

I know I’m not the audience, and that’s part of the joy. It feels like I’ve stumbled across a sentence that escaped from a world I was never supposed to know about. Like it’s a gift.