The sweating conductor has lost patience. They spoke of my baby sister who had died who had died at just eight weeks old. No sooner was the bus sighted, that people rushed towards it.
The gentle autumn breeze lifted the leaves-all shaded different hues of red and gold-into a gentle seasonal dance. But all the eyes are riveted on the right side.
The bright, half moon shone over half of his sallow face, giving it an eerie look. I looked fondly at the grey pavement with cracks the council had promised to fix Waiting at the bus stop essay a time but, unsurprisingly, had never done so.
Fear is their best friend.
I rode the bus for a year, down to work and back five days a week. If my parents had seen me, they would have snatched me up and taken me right back to the small town where I was born. But men of the age of science is standing in a queue waiting for a bus Some wipe their perspiration, others cover their heads with handkerchief, still others protect their faces with a newspaper.
I wanted to make him sorry for all those years when each year my birthday wish was for my life to be as it was before. The ideal schoolSomeone had a great disappointment that turned out to be a blessing in disguiseA servant or a worker was badly treated by an employerJealousyTime seems to stand still or go much too quicklyAdvertising exerts too great an influence on our daily livesKeeping fitDescribe an old couple outside your family who live an interesting and happy lifeIs it more important to enjoy your job than to earn a great deal of money?
My cousins and their families had come down to visit, which in itself was a rare event. Sun shines brightly and the earth is burning like a furnace. I had by now advanced in my queue and in a short while I had my ticket, which I clutched in my hand and looked around for a place to rest my self.
It was 10pm and I should have been asleep. As the day turned to night, my mind began to wander… I remembered the time about fourteen years ago, when I heard something that fuelled my reason for existence ever since. A Bus Stand Paragraph: Their puffed up hair seem to catch the heat of sun just as the aerial catch the sound waves.
There was an occasional fraying of tempers, as someone tried to jump the queue that made the nudging and jostling quite unpleasant.
A city planning committee surveys people waiting at a bus stop about the expansion of the public Essay Help; Other Useful Stuff. I was eight at the time but the memory has never faded, it feels as if it was yesterday.
All the time I kept my eyes fixed on the short, slight figure about 50 metres not too far ahead. The slam of a car door brought me back to reality with a jolt. The greatest sufferers are the fashionable ladies and the fat persons. Immediately all my unanswered questions came gushing out of my mouth like water pouring from a waterfall: Angry shouts and loud complaints seem to be nothing more than an outlet for heat of sun stored up in the brains of the standing persons.
On reaching the station, I saw a huge queue at the counter where tickets were being sold.Then there was the woman simply known as the Bag Lady. A paranoid schizophrenic, she had amassed a collection of detritus and kept it in a grocery cart, never letting it out of her sight.
She spent her days waiting for a bus that never came; she would scrutinize each one that passed her stop, invariably deciding it was the wrong one. After about half an hour wait, the bus finally pulled out of the station.
I however made a mental note, never to undertake such a long journey by bus, which left me weary well before the journey even, began. Waiting for a bus is irritating for an office goer, it is a punishment for a car-owner and a problem for a child-bearing mother.
The heat of the summer sun adds to the misery and mental torture. One feels if there is hell upon earth it is at the bus-stop. Essay about The Bus Stop of Life - Palabras | Cram Now it was a waiting game. We heard Missouri City Fire and EMS boats go by; they continued to make runs back and forth throughout the neighborhood, but didn’t stop at our house.
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I felt my anger rising at the way he so casually. A bus stop is an interesting place. There are always passengers at the bus stops. During the peak hours there is a huge rush at the bus stops. I go to my school by bus, Yesterday I reached the bus stop a little earlier than usual.
There was a great rush at the stop. Some people were standing in a queue. Some people were standing all around.Download