Visual writing. the way

Dust is all around, then smoke appears, I smell apples.
I hear the car behind and see another one right in front of me. The wind blows and spreads dust clouds around me. But now i'm happy to feel stable that's under my high hills. And only 5 minutes later I hardly opening a large dirty marshrutka's door. Hearing the old man's shortless of breath behind me I come in slowly on purpose. It seems to me that the roads won't be crowded. If I decided to take car I wouldn't be able to remember and notice all that. Somebody pets on the shoulder to pass the money, I accept but in reality I'm a bit angry because I hear that clutch pedal and see my stop through the open door