I am on it at least twice a day, back and forth. Since a lifetime. Well, for to long, anyway. It’s been years now, since I keep seeing tired passengers, happy or sad ones. I heard love and break up stories (yes, like those in the soap operas and like those in the New Wave movies). I have seen punching and ugly fights (aren’t they always ugly?), I’ve heard discussions about politics, about laundry cleanser, meat prices, about sex and death. Things that happen in every bus in this world, but I’m taking the 17, so i’m telling its story. The paper persons in this series, (replicas of real people I’ve seen) also travelled with this bus, but in my bag. In the end i will make a magazine (fanzine) from all images and i will leave it on a chair in the bus. Why? Just because it has to end somehow.