Last Stop
The bus groaned to a halt in the middle of nowhere, the hiss of the brakes the only sound in the evening fog. Elena looked up from her notebook, startled. Outside the window, thick mist curled around bare trees and a single, rusted sign that read: LAST STOP.
The driver turned to her. “End of the line,” he said, his voice low and tired.
“But this isn’t on the map,” Elena replied, clutching her bag.
He shrugged. “Maps don’t always know where you need to go.”
Unease crawled up her spine as she stepped off. The bus pulled away without another word, swallowed by the fog.
She stood alone on a cracked road. Then she saw it: a narrow path leading into the woods, lit by faint lanterns swaying in a wind she couldn’t feel.
Drawn by something she couldn’t explain, she walked. The path wound deeper until she came upon a small cabin. A sign on the door read:
“For the lost who seek, and the seekers who’ve been lost.”
Inside, the air was warm, filled with the scent of pine and old books. An elderly woman looked up from a chair by the fire.
“I’ve been waiting,” she said gently. “Everyone finds their way here. Eventually.”
Elena didn’t know why, but tears welled in her eyes. She stepped inside, and the door closed behind her with a soft click.
Outside, the lanterns flickered once—then went out.
