The Last Bus

It was a cold November night, and Mia was in a hurry. She ran along the street with a heavy bag, but she saw the red lights of the bus 47 go around the corner. The last bus. It was eleven forty, and her flat was six kilometres away.

She sat down on the bench and felt like crying. Then, at the end of the street, she saw a bus again. It stopped near her, the door opened, and a driver with grey hair looked out.

"The number 47 is out of service," he said. "I'm going to the depot. But the depot is in your area. Do you want to come?"

Mia hesitated. He had kind eyes, and a small sign on the dashboard said: "Thank you, Arthur." She got in and sat in the front seat.

The empty bus was warm. For a few minutes, nobody spoke. Then Arthur said, "Forty-one years I've driven this route. Tonight is my last night. After this, I retire."

"Your last night?" said Mia. "And you stopped for me?"

"Rules say the bus is out of service," he said with a small smile. "But I decide who is my last passenger."

At her door, Mia said thank you three times. Arthur opened the window and waved. She stood there until the red lights disappeared at the corner, just like the first time, but now she was not sad.

Fiction note: All people, places and events in this text are fictional.