Just let me watch the buildings. From inside the car, my parents talking quietly in front, me alone in the back, the summer breeze I dream about in January pushes my hair back and I can watch everything without having to participate. No one asks me impossible questions, or looks at me like I’m strange, or looks at me at all, and it is so wonderful. No worry. No insecurity from the back of that car. Just the people talking on porches and coming out of the tiny grocery stores and walking towards the capitol that sparkles pearly white in the middle of all the low-lit streets and I want to cry, let me cry it’s so beautiful without a catch to bring me back. I float away. I never want to go home. Do we have to go home?