The Angle

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In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.

"That nervous anticipation, itching the palms of my hands as I sit grimly in the back right corner of the city bus, watching the rain slide down the windows. Nothing could be worse than this feeling of being trapped and unable to see outside. And, my body being propelled by something other than my legs, creating a nauseous stir in the pit of my stomach, and rising up to my throat. If only I weren't surrounded by strangers."

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