I feel a gentle, wiggly movement on my thigh. I look. I see this tremendously furry creature crawling on my lap, its antennas wiggle somewhat randomly in my perspective, its direction--lost. Out of instinct, using my water bottle because of my phobia of touching things, like a bat, I swing--except like an upside-down swing (lol). In slow motion, I see it fly, I see it arch across space and time. It finally lands, and on the entrance of the bus. I wonder about its safety, I see it wander naively across dangerous territory, where clueless people broad in and out.

It's my stop. I get off. I stand. I look back. It's still safe, but I wonder how long. I want to go back, but with too much doubt running through me, I just stand. The bus door closes, and it parts. Poor little caterpillars don't belong on buses.

I walk to school, wondering if the Caterpillar God would charge me with murder.