You would be surprised how few people stop to help you when your car is engulfed in flames in the middle of the Pacific Coast Highway on a holiday weekend.
She walks barefoot on the stony beach. With each step, she aims for either a big flat stone or a grouping of smaller stones, covering at least the space of a foot.
It seemed like a good idea less than 2 hours ago when we were laughing over drinks until we were actually walking through the dimly lit parking lot towards the North Tower.
Plastered across the sofa like stretched-out taffy, she could hear the unmistakeable voice of her neighbor filter into the living room despite the hum of the ceiling fan.