The square wasn’t a square. It was outside the city‘s walls.
There was sometimes a market and people came from afar to shop there.
Exchanges were made. The square was a square.
The place of exchange became a market square.
The square was the market square.
The gremien grouped around it: the square was in the middle.
The square was the main square.
Cavaliers competed on their horses and the audience applauded, ate and played music in a festive atmosphere that lasted for days.
There was exchange.
When the square was destroyed by a fire, tents were build and the neighbours helped those affected by offering them their houses, food and clothing.
The square was now there for the refugees.
Somebody decided that the square should be rebuilt.
Somebody decided how the square should be rebuilt.
Somebody decided that the square needed order and a town hall.
Nobody ever thought that the square could not be a square any more.
An attempt was made to reclaim the square by placing a monument in the middle, so that it looked more like a square should.
People could come to the town hall by car. The square was a street.
An attempt was made to reclaim the square by building a park within it.
It was believed that the square could be reclaimed through the organisation of concerts, festivals and sporting events.
When misfortune struck, a lot of people lost their homes, jobs, everything.
This time, however, no tents were put up in the square to help the affected, and the neighbours did not offer their homes, food or their clothing.
The square continued with its concerts, performances and events.
The exchange value was lost.