He looked down at his map then back up to the sign, not quite sure exactly where he was. Even though he was new to the city, he was fairly confident in his ability to find his way around, after all, every boy raised in the backwoods of Warburton, Kansas knew how to use a map and compass, but this monstrosity of a street sign thwarted every effort he was trying to make at determining exactly where in this grid of steel and asphalt he was. He tried to stop anyone who walked by and ask for help, but everyone was either too busy in their own worlds or just looked at him funny as they walked by, some even giving him an enormously generous berth as they did.
“You realize it’s art and not a street sign, right?” came her voice as she watched him scratch his head.
“Why would someone name it Art?”