I fly out of the white car door
.
Pencils and markers bounce at the pace of my sprint.
My florescent shoes hit the concrete with perpetual force.
A tall creature with long limbs attracts unwanted attention.

I make it to the elevator
.
Out of order
.
Fine, I’ll take the stairs.

I lunge up several flights, almost taking myself out
.
The weight of my backpack pulls me in the opposite direction.
I turn the bridge.
Make my descent down the stairs.
The speakers blare out the final calls.

I hop on the steps of the train cart.
Look for a seat.
A conductors voice mentions Downtown Riverside.
I am on the wrong line.