Mike pedals his screaming yellow mountain bike down the hot black arterial.
A side street. A Passat, painted that ubiquitously boring grey of all cars today. A driver fails to look left. Turns right.
Mike brakes hard, avoiding the rear door by a hair. Adrenaline fills him. He sees red.
Driver continues, oblivious.
A pity, really. The 28-year old, whose last act in life was to touch up her frosted pink lipstick, had so much to live for.