I climb onto the bus 5 days of rain. I have no destination but I think I will enjoy the ride. the water distorts the windows like peering through old, warped glass. I am running away from my life the people I know to find a new place state of mind job person life I don't know what I want. one of those, I think. I don't know the purpose. I sink farther into my seat. I am unstable, like a table with three legs. buses do not feel emotions. I am a bus.