My flight was late, so I missed the last train home. A man at the station told me about a night bus to the coast, and I got on. The bus was old and slow, but the people were friendly. An old woman gave me an orange from her basket. Two students played the guitar, and the driver sang along.
At three in the morning we stopped at a small café and ate hot soup together. Before sunrise the driver left the main road and parked near the sea. "Nobody misses this on my bus," he said. We watched the sun come up over the water, and nobody said a word. I arrived hours late, but I had a great story.