The stoplight at Woodstock Boulevard was dark, so Mara took the left without slowing down since there was no approaching traffic. The first couple blocks were unlit and quiet, until she came to the overturned bus in the middle of the street. Clouds of dust billowed under a nearby working streetlight and a large African American man in a blue uniform was lifting himself out of the upturned doors at the front of the bus. Someone else banged and yelled at the doors in the center of the bus but had yet to wedge them open.
Mara slowed and considered stopping to see if anyone needed help, but a cluster of three green apparitions standing on the other side of the road made her think it would be best to get to the shop. She continued down the street, thankful to see the streetlights on again, sca
