What did you say?

"What did you say?" You clench your fists and glance around for something to throw. There's a heavy lamp next to you. Your fingers close around the cool enamel, feeling a surge of satisfaction at having a weapon in your hand. You look up, eyes slitted, vision blurry. He's sitting in the armchair across from you, utterly relaxed. As you watch, a smile flits across his face. You explode. A cry rips from your throat as you hurl the lamp at his smug face, then you're up and running from the room. You bump haphazardly through the winding hallway, searching for a phone, a friendly face, some respite- but when the smiling receptionist comes into view, you bolt past her and out the door. You check uncertainly, the glass door swinging shut behind you. The summer air hits you head on and you pause to take everything in. The cars whizzing by, the scent of petrol and sunscreen, the ladies in wide-brimmed felt hats and men in khaki shorts. You look around nervously.

On your right, the brick sidewalk slopes down a large hill to a neighbourhood of white stucco condos. To the left, the hill seems to go up forever; endless novelty shops and boulevard trees. The light at the nearest stop turns green. A bus rumbles down the hill and hisses to a stop in front of you. You check your pockets. You're out of change. You glance up to see the bus driver looking at you quizzically through the open door. You have a young face; if you ask him, you know he'll let you on for free. Your mind goes back to the room you just escaped from. You left your bag behind; it was on the small side table beside the lamp. You could have thrown that instead. You feel a sudden agonizing twinge of guilt. You waver for a moment. Then, deliberately, you shove your feelings away and step up onto the bus.

"Where are you going?" It's the bus driver. You smile sadly.

"As far as I can."