My clock tells me it’s 7:34 as the eleven-ton mass of aluminum that has been resting half a block away begins to move.
As it approaches, I put myself in the same place I have stood one hundred twenty six times to let its right mirror pass three centimeters beyond my nose’s tip.
I propel all fifty-three kilos of me onto the plastic platform that I have claimed as my floor.
Before I can find a home for the next eleven minutes, the world lurches backwards and I reach the angle of fifty-seven degrees before planting a foot below myself.

A church, a school, and a clinic pass me in the opposite order and direction that they will in seven hours and twelve minutes.
Saintly, somber, and sullied by distant demands of an end to the sinful selection of similarly-sexed citizens as significant others
Quiet, corralled, and carefully controlled by a creeping climate of cuts across the country, constantly keeping
Unchecked, unmanaged, and inundated by otherwise unhelped un-Americans who wonder if anything other than un-existence lies in the unknown to which they are unsure of their proximity

I pull the rope down from above my head and following my command the world stops, just for me.
I walk back to the door at the back and await its aperture, it will let the outside in for only a few seconds, and it will let me out for the next seven hours.
I drop down to the ground, the real ground, and I move myself for the first time in eleven minutes.
Here I am.