
On this particular trip, every storefront window seemed to be a scene right out of a funhouse.

The bakery was dead, but the bread was oddly fresh. There's a 1970's horror movie/Night of the Comet feel that I love about downtown Pomona. The quiet streets. The empty restaurants. We felt like the last two human beings on the planet. We were strangely alright with that thought.

We could hear the opening band warm up down the street before stumbling upon a band's impromptu jam session in the storefront window of some abandoned dress shop.
