The street is never "Street", it just is. Never the fictional hostile road on the bad part of town, just another road that connects, eventually to home.
A lady, dissheveled, pleading open face, forward body posture, is begging. She's going to die she say, she needs $5. Jonesing bad for a hit.
Dark circles around her eyes, almost palpable needles floating around her. Her partly un tucked dirty t shirt drifts around a form that should be full, but she seems hollowed. Hulled spirit that even anorexic slimness cannot hide.
This is one of the city's darling streets. Here the crime is organized almost to a second law, the restaurants are doing well. It's the darling gem the city wants to show off. She'll ride the lightning away from here soon enough, tasers all the way, for the crime of not knowing where not to make a scene.