The front of the bus is where the new ones sit. The ones who sit in the seats like they are royal thrones. The ones who watch the world fly by, commanding it like it\'s a forbidden kingdom. I used to sit in the front of the bus, among the kings. I\'m not one of them. One of the kings. The ones with the crystal windows and velvet seats. The ones with the golden boots and the thundering capes that drag across the floor. I\'m not one of them. One of the kings. The back of the bus is where I sit. The seat in the middle. That one there. That one made of concrete, anchored to the floor so tight I can\'t pull it from its spot. The windows are so spattered with soot I can\'t see out of them. I can\'t see the real world from where I sit, so I have just only imagine what it\'s like out there. Too bad it\'s cloudy. It always is. I can fix it. I just have to dream. Dream. Dream. Maybe one day the kings will sit in the back. On the concrete seat. Maybe I can have a turn with the crystal windows and velvet seats. Maybe. Or maybe the royal thrones will just follow them there. Tomorrow I\'ll sit in the front. Tomorrow I\'ll be one of the kings. Tomorrow. But I\'m still not one of them. One of the kings. I\'m just a ghost on a concrete seat.