SATIRE. Fiction. No real camera, town or resident is described below.
The specimen mounted above an unnamed intersection logged its ten-thousandth plate sometime Tuesday afternoon, an achievement it did not acknowledge, announce, or appear to enjoy.
Neighbors describe it as attentive but distant. It has watched a man leave for the same shift for two years and has never once nodded. It knows his sedan intimately. It has no idea he is called Dave.
There was no ceremony. There is never a ceremony. There is only the next car.