July 23, 2007
I jump into my car, bags barely packed, and I drive fast across the road. I see mountains and fields and children stretched out across backseats, staring at the shapes of clouds over the edges of their tattered book covers. My transition stutters, strange voices pour from the radio, and I push on, confident in the unknown, happy to be arriving nowhere, anywhere, in an adventure or a boring day. The comfort and the illusion embrace me as I stick my hand out the window and play with the wind. I laugh, my whooping cheer falling into only my ears.