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Summary
The dark outside the bus didn't feel real. The worn pleather seats of the greyhound bus didn't feel real. Josh couldn't feel his hand, either despite or in spite of the fact that he'd been gripping the arm rest to his left for the entire bus ride. He was stressed, which was probably bad for-
No. No, he didn't want to think about that right now. Nothing about today, or yesterday, or any day before. As far as Josh could process right now, this was the beginning.
