One time I was coming home from school. I didn’t notice that I got onto the wrong bus. This bus brought me into the middle of the city. I didn’t know what to do and got off almost at the end of the line. I managed to figure out where I was. I don’t really know how I did this.
Suffice it to say that I knew the city. I had been living there for a few years. I must have recognized parts of it. I then decided that my best course of action was to walk home. I didn’t call my parents or get onto another bus. In fact, these thoughts didn’t even cross my mind. I thought I was already in trouble for not being on the right bus. I didn’t want to make matters worse.
So I walked.
I was actually walking home in early winter on the highway. I was getting close. I knew where I lived. Someone stopped. A man asked me why I was walking on the highway. I told him I was trying to get home. He said that he would give me a lift. I didn’t really think about it. This man had a moustache and looked pretty young. His car was on old one.
He drove me home. My parents were relieved to see me. I remember that I was pretty close to my home. I was only a few kilometers away from my exit on the highway. Then it would have been a few more kilometers to walk home on Rue Lamartine. I don’t know how much I walked that day.