You walk down the street. As you leave the boy continues to shout out to the empty street the same lines, trying to sell the newspaper.
You walk by a pharmacy and look inside. It’s a small shop. At the front of the store, there’s your usual fare of pain killers, medical devices, diapers, snacks, and the like. At the end of the store, there’s a locked counter, behind which are two narrow aisles of pills, ointments, and syrups.
You pass by and take a look into a store with a large sign “Darleen’s Boutique” in bold letters. The shop’s filled with scarves, shirts, and dresses overflowing from the racks.
Many of the other stores you pass by are vacant or look like they haven’t seen anyone in years. Most are boarded up, but others have shattered glass windows.