From the outside the van appears lifeless, under its own controls, dead inside. Closer in a driver and a passenger are visible, but this is just a glimpse of the life and activity under the light blue Dodge sheet metal shell. Inside four people participate in an idle quest to get back home, while the fifth executes their quests actively.

The fifth has the loathsome task of dealing with the dirty windshield caused by disgruntled windshield wipers, sand and salt trucks spreading their useful, but blinding wares. Lake Erie also contributes to the blinding conditions, experienced by the fifth person. Its annoyance is furnished in the form of water, specifically, piles and piles of white, blinding snow, falling from the sky at a rate far greater than anyone wishes to know.

From the inside of this blue bullet, the sound of rushing wind coupled with the bouncing of tires on the weather and war attacked roadway. This patter of wear creates a random rhythm felt in the buttocks and the sound of the loose pieces of plastic. The rattling and squeaking caused by either the abusive driving styles endured by this seven year old conglomeration of parts, or by the inferior work by and eighteen dollar an hour employee in a large rectangular building.

An exchange of reading material occurs. Some of the inhabitants of the blue vesicle have discovered that the cheapest way to gain access to reading materials, is by reading most of it second hand. This is if you can stand the messy folds of newspapers; the broken spines and dog-eared pages of books; and the ripped and folded pages of magazines.

In this blue vesicle the quest for home continues in the swapping of reading materials, the ponderance of the rhythm in the buttocks of the occupants, and the continual fight to see the road through the enemies on the windshield.