The odds of him having a run in with the police were slim to none. This comes as a surprise because the force was reduced from three cars to one since the city holds three million people. On his way back home on this particular night, Mr.
Not to attract attention or be followed by dogs, the author says that Mr. You can tell that the city is safe since he has never encountered any altercation with anyone. He would say things like, “A revenue? What’s up tonight on channel 7? A comedian falling off the stage?” as he passes the houses unnoticed. He stops and talks to the houses to amuse himself. The televisions in this era have taken up the social lives of people and they rarely leave their houses. The only evidence of human activity is the vague flickering of life and light within. In his mind, the pedestrian compares the houses to graveyards since little to no activity goes on in them. It comes as no shock for him because, in the ten years of his walks, he has never encountered another person. He takes pleasure in his walks, an interest no one else seems to share. The nighttime walks are a way for him to fill his time. He lives alone with no family, having never been married. Meade stepping out for his usual evening pastime, taking a walk. This is an odd profession since nobody reads books anymore. Leonard Meade, a writer in the year 2053. Ray Bradbury in the Pedestrian tells a story of Mr.