Entry one: Today I got a job as a driver of the Frostbite Express Shuttle! I start tomorrow. I’m really looking forward to helping students get to where they need to be!
Entry two: I’m so angry! My first day on the job and I was 20 minutes late for my route. Although, it was very curious, no one seemed to mind. Instead of being upset it was as though they had already accepted it. Towards the end of my shift I even skipped stops altogether and no one said anything.
Entry three: I have just finished my second day and I feel the need to record another strange occurrence. When a small-framed girl showed me her Wildcard I noticed her hands were black with frostbite. I began to request that she seek medical attention but she quickly scurried away. Very odd…Maybe I’ll see her tomorrow.
Entry four: After my daunting experience I started to closely observe who I was driving. What I saw was disturbing. These bodies, they were just empty shells. When I tried to converse with them they would move to the back in hopes of finding a warm place to burrow.
Entry five: It’s getting weird. Today I hit a large pothole while driving a particularly crowded bus. Everyone collided and at once I heard a collective, pathetically submissive “Sorry.”
Entry six: I see these bodies come on and off the bus in such pain, or maybe bliss? It’s impossible to tell. No conversation is held, no movement is seen, and no smiles are had. At this point I’m not sure the passengers have teeth, or even eat food.
Entry seven: The darkness has followed me home. When I lie in my bed I see their cold sunken faces. My consistent interaction with these lifeless souls has evidently taken its toll.
Entry eight: I am no longer a bus driver. I head the raft that crosses the great river Styx and there is no escape. My role is moving bodies from one desolate hell to the next. They are one of me, and I am one of them. Together we exist in an eternal purgatory and any degree of social warmth is but a memory
Sherman Ave 
Over Head Transmission !
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