The Sleepy Bus

The little blue bus had been busy all day. Broom, broom, up the hill. Broom, broom, down the hill. Now the sky was dark, and the little blue bus was sleepy.

"One last trip," said the driver. "Then home."

The bus rolled slowly down the road. Its two lamps made two soft yellow circles on the ground.

First stop. Pssh, went the door. The baker stepped down with his empty basket. "Goodnight, bus," he said. The bus blinked its lamps. Goodnight.

Second stop. Pssh, went the door. The teacher stepped down with her big bag of books. "Goodnight, bus." The bus blinked its lamps. Goodnight.

Third stop. Pssh, went the door. A grandfather stepped down, holding a sleeping baby against his shoulder. He did not say a word. He only smiled. The bus did not blink at all, so that the baby would not wake.

Now the bus was empty. The seats were quiet. The bell did not ring.

The bus rolled slowly, slowly to its shed. The driver switched off the engine. Broom... broo... br...

He patted the steering wheel. "Well done today," he said, and he closed the big shed door.

Inside, it was dark and warm. The little blue bus let out one long, slow breath. Pssssh.

And it slept until morning.