"Ass..." I said, watching the expensive sports coupe race through the red light so quickly that the license plate shrunk to illegibility in moments. More carefully this time, I walked across the street. It was a four-laner, two in each direction. It was almost nine in the AM, and the drivers were anxious to get to work. Why did mom need this stuff right now? I wondered as I mounted the curb on the other side. The street smelled like a garage, with a tinge of ozone. A bit of rain would be nice, to wash everything away. The only pharmacy in our network within walking distance was almost eight blocks away. Eight city blocks, the broad sidewalks bustling the entire way. I would take the bus, but my pass expired two weeks ago. So here I was, beating my feet against the sun baked Pasadena sidewalk this fine Monday morning. As usual, the sky overhead was blue, not yet tinged by the smog drifting over from LA.
