Enough of the heavy stuff, let’s get on with the story. Over the hump of Chapters 1-4. Late but picking up stride.

The bus continued down the road and eventually onto a bumpy highway. Between the hum of the wheels in the back of the bus and the grain of the road shaking his seat, Web began fighting to keep his eyes open, and before he knew it..

“Excuse me,” said a frail, old voice, its owner tapping him softly on the shoulder.

Web opened his eyes, momentarily confused about where he was. He looked with the distant gaze of interrupted sleep at the elderly woman who was sitting next to him.

“I’m sorry to wake you. Your head was getting heavy on my shoulder. And you were drooling on my shawl.”

Web blinked and felt the conscious world returning to him. He hadn’t even seen the woman get on.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said suddenly as the ability to speak clicked in, “it’s been a long week. I’ll try my best to use the window.” And then, to try to win some points with the old woman, “I’m the World Wide Web, you know.”

“That’s nice,” she smiled, “I thought you looked like a Jeffrey.”

Web gazed out at the road passing by and thought of his week at the retreat. Everything had been so regimented, yet it all seemed to work together smoothly. The more he learned how to fall into their pattern of going about things, the less he found himself distracted by the day-to-day worries that once kept him busy.

It was still a ways before Web’s stop – a protest down in the Big City. The members at his new camp said they were were pleased at how well he understood their beliefs, and they wanted him to be their representation at the event. URLs were gathering to protest for equal rights, it seemed, right under the marquee at Application Square. He job was to attend the protest and attempt to identify and arrange a meeting with the leaders of each respective group at the protest. Web still wasn’t sure what to do after that, but his new friends had assured him that the rest would take care of itself.