It’s much too hot, she thought, waving a feeble hand over her face in an attempt to direct whatever wisp of wind there was towards her face, to not put the air-conditioning on to full blast.

But then again, it was a miracle in itself that a bus this cheap was able to afford air-conditioning at all. Junhee had her doubts about the vehicle, so old and rickety that she worried it would fall apart before they were even halfway through the journey. But she was a college student whose funds were much too low to indulge in anything above the economy class, and planning this trip alone had already stripped away a good amount of cash from her wallet.

For a travel bus filled to the brim with eager but economic travellers, it was too quiet. The atmosphere was still and stifling despite the bursts of cool air from the vents above them, occasionally punctuated by light snores and the gentle murmurs of hushed conversations. Junhee saw some lips move, quick intakes of breath preceding soft sentences uttered in the tones impossible to hear if you were more than an arm’s length away from the speaker. She stared at them intently, longingly, for could only hope for a smile when one was sitting alone.

She crossed her arms glumly; it had been a challenge itself trying to make Sooyeon to come with her, and when her efforts crumbled into fine specks of unnoticeable dust after the call her roommate received from her mother requesting her return over the summer, it had been downright aggravating. The only bit of consolation she could find in the situation was that turning the ticket in for a refund had resulted to a little more cash that she could spend for herself.

What’s a vacation without souvenirs? she had mused when she had boarded the bus, and it was certainly enough motivation to get her in without too much regrets.

The scenery that rolled past them was repetitive: forests and pastures, unfolding like a large cloth before her eyes; a carpet of green and brown speckled with the occasional dusting of colour from the flowers or twittering birds. To a lover of tall buildings and concrete sidewalks, it would have been painfully dull, but to an art major whose sole purpose was to capture nature’s beauty, it was fascinating.

Junhee had whipped out her sketchbook the minute the trees had rolled in, fingers moving swiftly as she recorded the passing sceneries in the form of vague, decisive lines meant to be filled in later. There was so much to record that she regretted not bringing her camera with her. While angling it in front of the bus window to get a passably clear shot would have been hard, it was harder trying to capture a wide range with a minute cell phone camera lens.

As morning had rolled into afternoon, the heat from the tar had begun to rise and hover on the underside of the bus, heating up whatever ancient metal contraption there was and consequently spreading throughout the entire vehicle. Junhee’s blouse was beginning to stick to her back already, and with lethargic hands she pawed into her bag for the portable fan that she had had the sense to borrow from Sooyeon before she left the dorm. It wasn’t generating cool air as much as circulating the hot, but at least it was a decent weapon to stave off the heat with. Junhee just hoped that she wouldn’t deplete the battery before they were even there.

She leaned back, resting her elbow on the little ledge below the windows and closing her eyes. She had abandoned sketching about an hour ago (art was a practice that required a conducive environment; what the artist feels is mirrored in his or her work) and had just allowed herself to be influenced by the air of lethargy blanketing the entire bus, affecting everyone but the driver. Her sketchbook was balanced harmlessly on her lap, graphite pencils tucked neatly between two pages to keep from rolling away. After ten minutes of deliberating and another five of trying to make her limbs cooperate, she finally drew her bag towards her to stuff them through its zipper. After wrestling with the bit of metal to shut it, she let herself fall into the rhythm of the wheels and the whir of the engine, along with the soft humming of the radio and the occasional creak of springs as someone shifted in their seat.

Soon, she was asleep.