We turn a corner and the driver slams his foot on the brakes.
Me and my friend are
suddenly thrust forward, our faces almost hitting the back of the seats in front of us (had it
not been for the seat belts that cut painfully into our shoulders). I peer down the hall of the
bus and saw a slow, lumbering figure that our driver had just managed to avoid colliding
into. “What? What is it?” asked (friend’s name)
and I am suddenly shocked by their poor living conditions. I turn to my friend and whisper ‘I
feel so bad for them’. She nods in