I look through the window at the child slowly disappearing down the driveway. I press my hand against the window to clear the foggy wetness. Who could that be and why didn't they get on? I wish I didn't have to go to school anymore.
There I go again. I'm lost and seeing myself through the bus window from the side of the old country road. How could this be happening to me again? I see myself press my hand on the window as the bus drifts down the road toward the highway. What do I do now, I think to myself. How do I get back to me. I look down the long winding road again to see if I can still see it but no I'm already gone.