A dark shadow surges up from the distant horizon. It smothers all in its path and mutates it into a pale miasma. I watch the smog expand from the comfort of my air-conditioned interior, convincing myself that its acrid pungency is filtered into clean breathable oxygen within my acclimatized vehicle. From my luxurious confines I see a skewed perspective of Los Angeles, California, halting and gliding by degrees through the city’s shifting membrane as I traverse the 105, Santa Monica Boulevard, and Mulholland Drive.
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stevestriding 