James drove his car towards the downtown of St. Claire, westhaven oakridge lane; the sides of the lane were lined with makeshift houses or homeless people sprawled across the pavement. The more deep in the lane he reached, more scenarios like this appeared. 

“What an odd place to build a clinic,” James murmured to himself as he reached the clinic that stood out like a sore thumb. Considering it was a white building surrounded by buildings that looked like they would fall at the slightest breeze.