Describe a journey by bus

My watch strikes six. Still groggy and feeling chilly because of the morning breeze, I hop on board the 404 Central line bus. I have been taking this 2-hour trip from my small village to the big city for the past 20 years. That proves that I did not get any richer since then. I am always the first passenger.

The carcass of a bus roars to life. I get prepared for another torturous ride. I'm not exaggerating by using the word 'torture'. Any notion of comfort should be ruled out here. This bus has been on the streets before I was born and this old damsel is far from being in good shape. The engine is rusty, the seat covers have been torn and the small windows can barely be opened. To me, this bus looks more like a coffin than a vehicle. I try to escape this misery by observing the deep, verdant countryside outside.

By 7 A.M the bus enters the city. It's starting to get crowded inside, and hot. Most passengers are glued to their phones, pretending to do something important and ignoring the heat. My face is dribbling with sweat and the unpleasant scent of humidity wafts in the air. In a few minutes, it's only to get worse as the category of people I dislike the most start to get on board, students.

The younger pupils come in groups, singing in unison one of those incomprehensible songs kids listen to these days. The teenagers come in pairs, murmuring in each other's ears, probably about celebrity scandals or the next couple they believe is going to break up. They occasionally break into a laugh for a silly reason.

Amidst this chaos, some outliers remain quiet in their bubbles. A bespectacled teenage boy is voraciously reading a hefty book entitled 'ATOMIC STRUCTURE OF MOLECULE PARTICLES'. No wonder he does not make any friends. A middle-aged woman, dressed in an immaculate white suit, is listening to music on her earphones. Her facial expression indicates that she is overloaded with stress. I hope that in 20 years she won't be still taking this bus, like me.

I look by the window, it's hell outside. There's an endless line of vehicles, moving slower than pedestrians. Drivers are blaring their horns furiously for no apparent reason. By 7.50 AM the bus is packed with seated and standing people. I have to move to the front of the bus to alight, which is virtually impossible. I push my way forward, meeting the look of some disgruntled passengers. I finally manage to step out of the bus and take a deep breath of the polluted city air. My back hurts after this interminable ride. I'll have to make the same bus journey tonight.