It was raining heavily that evening when I found myself stranded at a crowded bus station hundreds of miles from home. The rain had been falling for hours, turning the roads outside into streams of muddy water and making every passing vehicle disappear behind a curtain of mist.
Inside the station, the atmosphere was just as chaotic. Travelers crowded beneath the dim lights, carrying suitcases, backpacks, and plastic bags filled with whatever they had managed to protect from the rain. Children slept against their parents’ shoulders while tired passengers stared anxiously at the departure screens, waiting for some sign that their buses would finally arrive.
I stood near one of the windows, watching water race down the glass. My clothes were still damp, and I could feel the cold slowly settling in. I checked my phone again, but the battery was nearly dead. There was no one I could call for help, and the few messages I had received only made it clear that the roads ahead were becoming more difficult to travel.
