The lives of parallel lines are uneventful: no sudden twists or unexpected turns disturb their single track monotony. And yet they dream of non-Euclidian space where rules are bent and of that infinite horizon where, at last, they’ll coincide. Concentric circles, on the other hand have no such hyperbolic hope. They know their limitations. Destined to be solitary cranks, they circumlocate, make roundabout excuses and observe their fellows from a distance. They never socialise.