The Night Bus

It was almost one in the morning. Mara stood at the bus stop and waited. The street was empty. The shops were dark. Only one yellow light buzzed above her head.

She was very tired. She had worked twelve hours at the hospital. Her feet hurt. Her eyes were heavy. She just wanted to go home and sleep.

The last bus came slowly down the road. It was old and white, with the number 9 on the front. The doors opened with a soft hiss.