The Lighthouse

Prose, prose, prose…

The Number 26

The last stop along the Number 26 bus line lies just on the edge of town, near a cliff ledge looking out over the ocean. If you happen to want to get off here, you have to ring the bell not to stop the bus, but to tell the driver to keep going on. The bus usually doesn’t get this far, as most drivers turn back early, for it’s a stop that hardly even exists at all, and passengers seldom get off.

However, this is where I’m getting off today. As I rang the bell and directed the driver onward to the last stop, looks of confusion or annoyment gaze back at me from the regular commuters of the Number 26 bus, for I’m wasting precious seconds of their days by forcing them along this little detour with me.

As hardly anyone ever takes the bus to or from this…

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