I dreamed I was walking on a little path winding between oaks and over grassy California hills, while the humans zoomed by on their freeway far below.

I bet you think this is eco-preaching. We should get out of our cars... Wrong! I had very mixed feelings. The hills were pretty, but lonely; I like meeting other travelers. Plus, I WANTED to get there fast--wherever there was.

But I just couldn't handle their road. Noise, exhaust, speed, danger. Particularly the car exhaust. I was violently allergic to it. That freeway just wasn't open to me.

The winding path was the best I could find, in a world built for others.

Okay, accuracy time. I can't recall just what I was. Some sort of person who didn't mind hoofing it... but whether I was male or female and biped quadruped or centauroid, I couldn't recall when I woke.

And it hardly matters how I looked. I wasn't racially barred.

Biochemically.

And that's literal. I tend to forget my environmental illness day to day, since I've arranged my life to avoid much of modern America. I take it for granted there are vast areas uninhabitable for me--but not you. This dream reminds me. I do forget, and then wonder why I'm lonely and progressing so slowly... when I'm not even your species.

Or might as well not be.

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