The black car scrambled across a speed bump. It was weaving with alarming velocity through Sara’s suburban apartment complex. There were many speed bumps, alleviated only by small portions of in-between smoothness. Henry wiped the white powder from under his nose. The sun, setting, was scarlet and angry on his face. His eyes were bloodshot and wild as he bounced around a sharp corner, bopping again over a bump. Damn, that can’t be good for the suspension. The thought barely registered as he b...