The Uber made its way up the slinking black road, a set of squat gray buildings approaching over the horizon. Seeing civilization hurt my vision, as my eyes were so accustomed to mountain goats and herders and sloping silver mountains, but a wave of relief washed over afterwards. The driver, a young man in his mid-twenties, turned into a sharp bank, unwary of the passenger sitting in the backseat. I punctured my palm on a handle when I grabbed ahold of it, resulting in a fit of rage and spewing expletives with an only response from the driver, a measly "sorr." Not even a complete "sorry", like his mouth didn't unlatch all the way. He parked in a faculty spot and didn't seem to care, so I didn't care either.

    My lungs had experienced a resurgence of energy, so much to the point I felt as if I had descended onto another planet. The oxygen felt fresh, not in small quotas, and the brushings of spruce trees along the trail to the entrance served to rejuvenate the rest of my senses.

    The driver helped unload my things, only a few essentials, toothpaste and a toothbrush purchased at a lunch stop in 7/11, a half-eaten mayonnaise sandwich, a couple sets of overalls and starched shirts and river-washed jeans, and a broken-toothed comb I knew had been crooked before I left. The horrid driver huffed on my shoulder before closing the door, as though he was expecting more luggage on me and his lack of labor was killing him. I paid him extra tips, so he would never come back and I'd leave with a good remark. The driver slapped the bills from my hand, shot me a leery look, and drove away into the distance, the fender of his Prius quivering in the sharp wind.

    University awaited, I thought, turning my head to meet the squat gray buildings again. It were the same buildings which I sought for the last four years out in the village, and finally coming here was a sight for sore eyes.