I got on the last bus at eleven o'clock. I was going to my cousin's town, two stops away. The bus was warm and almost empty. I put my bag on my knees and closed my eyes for a minute. When I opened them, it was dark outside and the bus was stopping. I looked out. I did not know this place. "Where are we?" I asked the driver. He looked at me in the mirror. "The last stop," he said. "End of the line." I had slept for two hours. There were no buses back until morning. I sat in the small station and waited. It was cold, but the sky was very clear, and I could see more stars than in the city. At six o'clock, I got on the first bus home. I was late, tired and hungry. I still think about those stars.