In a quiet corner of the city, two trams found themselves locked in an unexpected standoff. What was supposed to be an ordinary commute turned into an urban legend when the very road beneath them decided it had had enough.
A massive bump had erupted in the middle of the tracks — like the concrete itself had risen from the depths, possibly after being poked one too many times by tram wheels. The two trams sat motionless, glaring at each other like old rivals in a spaghetti western, their electric horns silent, but their tension loud.
Drivers and pedestrians paused, puzzled. Some thought it was a prank, others swore it was the work of underground mole-people or angry construction spirits. Meanwhile, cars carefully weaved around the chaos, and onlookers took selfies with the dramatic concrete wave.
“Only in this city,” someone muttered while filming the absurd scene.
And there they stayed, two metallic giants, facing off like cowboys at high noon — blocked not by technical failure, but by the very road that had served them for decades.
Urban mystery? Infrastructure gone rogue? You decide.
