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Whenever she was near the ocean, Cory usually experienced a keen sense of calm. It had been her special balm to relieve distress. In the years before dependence on cell phones, the routine drive down Camino del Mar had afforded a panacea, but no longer.
She passed familiar shops and restaurants, and braked at stop signs. Too often she hit the brakes for pedestrians daring to cross in the middle of the street mesmerized by their cell phones. Such devices commanded the users’ full attention and were perilous in traffic. Cyclists weaved in and out of the narrow bike lane taken up by delivery trucks. Drivers had to be on the alert.
She had left early enough for the slow drive.
Soon Torrey Pines and the ocean came into view. Cory drove over the old bridge still awaiting repairs after
