Black Death in San Diego

Black Death torches San Diego again. The north east blast furnace has placed fire engines on alert.Their trucks are parked outside. Fire truck sirens can be heard in the distance. The wails of fire trucks can be heard everywhere. 
   I began my day at the corner of Broadway and Kettner Blvd. Starbucks sat on the corner. The unseasonably gale force winds have made commuters hostage to  mocha, cold ones, and cappuccinos. I bought a cinnamon role and sat at a corner table.
   I  asked myself the question, why so many line up at Starbucks. Then it dawned on me. Their air conditioners are a tonic for the tired and hot. Their windows have a great view of the street scene. The shop has a bevy of drinks loaded with caffeine. A Starbucks is located on every fourth or fifth street-usually on a corner spot. It is a godsend for the homeless. They are first to arrive in the morning hours. A drink entitled them to use the toilet. You can't miss them. Just look at a typical one.
   He has a back pack on the opposite seat. His eyes look nowhere. His suck-in cheeks hide a mouth without furniture. His burnt dried skin screams for cream. He hold up one side of his pants while he walks. His shoes drag on the floor. He walks in slow motion. He goes back and forth returning with more cups of half and half of sugar. Yet he owns a computer and even a cell phone. He sits on the end corner.
   I walk from Starbucks to the train station. The #567 waits for me on track number 2. Its doors open eight o'clock for my # 567 ride to Encinitas. It is nice to breathe clean air. I know the ozone will build up gradually during the hottest week...ever in San Diego. I may look like a fool but am not one. I 
know  the motels have cool air conditioned rooms, but going and coming can present other problems-like eighty bucks a night. 
   I make it to Encinitas. I can see my car but its eyes are swollen. Black grime and dust cover its windows. The May winds have saturated the city with Black Death, invisible ozone.  I drive up Encinitas Blvd to the senior center. I know the central air will clean my ducks Unlike ducks who use water, clean air allows my bronchial tubes to work. 
   It is supposed to be in the nineties this week. How can anyone survive without an air conditioner? I run to the commuter room, and log on to number one. Ron is on number three. He speaks. 
   "It is a blast furnace outside. It is going to be that way all week. Now with Obama Care, there no longer will be enough doctors to handle this emergency...But next week it looks like rain."
   I tell him I am going to the lunch of pepper rolls. It is birthday day at the Little Oak's Cafe. There are more people at our table 5. Horst is having a procedure that puts a damper on the party but Lady  Barbara shows up-finally. She is lovely to look at but no longer can be by herself. I present this 85 year old with a birthday card. 
   "I so wish the lord to take me." Not yet Barbara, not as long as your fingers can play happy birthday. Judy calls those who have May birthdays. Barbara goes to the piano and plays a few songs. I play 'Happy Birthday.' 
   I have, in my 75 years, never seen so many windy blasts the last month or so. Mix-in the dirt and heat and it produces Black Death. (Not finished.)