"Discovery"

 

I sat next to an old woman at the bus stop. She had a book in her lap but was holding it there with the back cover facing up and the spine turned toward the street, so I couldn't see what she was reading. A bookmark was keeping its vigil about two-thirds of the way through.

"Must be a good book," I said to her, pointing. "Looks like you're almost done with it."

The woman smiled and said, "Oh, it's unbelievable. Very informative. Some books just, I don't know, wake you up, make you realize how much more you have to learn about the world, you know?" She turned her book over and showed me a dictionary's front cover. When the bus finally came, I let her board first.

"The Bus Stop at the End of the Line"

Hard to see, but there really is a bus stop next to the traffic signal, just at the edge of this forest preserve path.

You can get drunk before you write your farewell note, if you think that'll make it easier. You can put pills and razor blades in your bag, along with whatever else you choose. You can drop your keys through a gap in the sewer grate once you lock the front door and then say, "No turning back now."

You can do all of these things, and the bus driver will still let you board the bus, so long as you keep quiet and pay with exact change. 

The bus driver will let you ride the entire route, all the way to the stop at the end of the line. The stop won't look anything like the gritty terminal you expected, though. Instead, when the door opens, in front of you will be a simple path leading who knows where, it's tough to see in the dark, but leading somewhere. You'll look at the bus driver, confused and uncertain. The bus driver will smile sadly and say, "This is the end." 

What he means is, "It doesn't have to be if you don't want it to."