Robert never liked taking photos, but that time he didn’t object.
At around eleven at night, I noticed that the bus had become much quieter.
There were no city lights outside anymore.
Only dark mountains and, every now and then, the black silhouettes of trees in the distance.
I looked out the window and realized the road had become much narrower.
“Robert, I think we’re taking a different road.”
At first, he said nothing.
Then he lifted his head and stared toward the windshield for a long time.
At that moment, the bus turned onto a dark side road.
Another passenger called out,
“Driver, is this the right road?”
Without turning around, the driver replied,
“The main road is closed. We’re taking a detour.”
A few people complained, but soon everyone became quiet again.
