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The yellow bus rolled down the sloping hills of the red yellow orange and green hillside of the Gatineau. The tires bounced off rocks and bumped into twigs. The dizziness was overwhelming; watching the colours go by like a blur; the sounds swimming in your head, the chatter of your friends just keeps on getting louder. Every breath you take seems to add to the pressure building up in your chest. Every time you blink the world just gets blurrier. And finally when you step off that bus, you feel like you could just collapse. The climb was more exhausting then exhilarating. Birds talk to each other in their incessantly loud chirping. The brisk wind finds a way underneath your autumn jacket and chills you to the bone. The sunlight, covered by all the pines couldn~{!/~}t reach your hands leaving them dry and frosty. The first stop, your group stops to take a sketch, you think you died and went to heaven but actually its not any better. The stones were cold enough to preserve you for years to come and your hands were so numb you repeatedly drop your pencil.
Approximate Word count = 701
Approximate Pages = 2.8
(250 words per page double spaced)
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