I took a bus because it stopped by me, or was that the award for my patience? … in any case, the bus is moving now and I’m looking through the window at the path I was used to go on foot. That’s the truth. The being on the move silenced the questions… This thought gave me a little shiver (the bus stooped – the driver didn’t miss his stop) No motion…no questions – when there are no goals to achieve the play with metaphors too ceases. My travel by bus meant not the refusal to go on foot, but my disability: when other took care for my needs, my bus started moving quicker than I ever could dream about, or run on my foot.