Tessa Nickerson
Mr. Hertz
2 November, 2012
English 2
Blissful Bus Stop
I sit outside of my house, at a bus stop. All I see is trees. But then I sit, wait, and listen. It's bliss. I see the fall leaves bristling in the wind. Rocks rolling on the ground. Sitting on a slab of concrete, feeling its coldness.
I hear birds chirping and I see them flying in the cloudy sky. There is a fence behind me rattling as the dogs were barking and jumping on it. I also see people preparing for Halloween, putting up decorations.
I hear and see cars passing by, the tires on the ground, traveling on the rocks. The wire on the telephone poles shaking because of the harsh winds. I see and feel little raindrops. Crashing into the puddles on the ground. This is what happens at my little, blissful bus stop.
