The Last Passenger

Lit from within, the bus rolls down the dark highway.
All souls on board, silent, staring, sleeping.
The driver at the wheel calmly shepherding them to their destination.
Last run of the night.
Almost home.

The engine hums with a sort of tired whine
A bell dings - signalling
The brakes squeal an answer
A rider departs without a word

Once more, the rectangular beast spins wheels continuing the journey
As if it knows the way

Renewed by a press of the pedal, the engine once more keens out a whiny rumble
Moving ever forward
To the next stop

Ding! Another signal.
Tinny squeals from the brakes let the passenger know this part of the journey is done
Stepping down, she murmurs, thank you, good night.

But for the driver, this journey would never have begun.
But for the last passenger, it would never end.