The Wrong Bus (A2 Reading Story)

A2 · ELEMENTARY Reading practice · ~1,600 words · 11-min read

This is an original story for A2 learners. It uses the past simple and easy connectors like because, so, and then. First, read the nine key words. Then read the story. At the end, there is a quiz to check what you understand.

The story

1 · A new city

Sara moved to the city in September. She came from a small town by the sea, where everybody knew everybody. In the city, nobody knew her name. The buildings were tall, the streets were loud, and the people walked very fast.

Sara was twenty-six years old, and this was her first real job. She worked in an office near the river. The job was good, but everything was new. On Monday, she learned how to use the computer system. On Tuesday, she learned the names of eleven people. On Wednesday, she forgot most of them.

Her new flat was small but nice. It had one room, one window, and a very old fridge that sang a little song at night. There was nothing on the walls yet. There was nothing on the fridge. It didn’t feel like home — it felt like a hotel room with her name on the door.

At lunchtime, her new colleagues were friendly, but they were also busy. They ate fast and talked about people Sara didn’t know and films she didn’t see. So she usually ate her sandwich at her desk and sent messages to her old friends back home.

Every evening, she took bus 24 from the office to her small flat. The journey took thirty minutes. She usually looked out of the window and watched the city lights. She didn’t talk to anybody, because she didn’t know anybody.

On Friday evening, Sara finished work late. Her boss asked her to check a long report, so she left the office at seven o’clock. She was exhausted — very, very tired. Her eyes hurt, her feet hurt, and she wanted only two things: dinner and bed.

She called her mother while she walked to the bus stop. “How was your first week?” her mother asked. “It was fine,” Sara said. “But this city is so big, Mum. I feel small here. I don’t know anyone.”

“Give it time,” her mother said. “A city is only a lot of small towns together. You will find your small town soon.”

Sara smiled, but she didn’t believe her. Then her phone made a sad little sound. The battery was at five per cent. “I have to go, Mum,” she said. “My battery is dying.” She put the phone in her pocket and looked down the road for her bus.

2 · The wrong bus

A bus arrived with bright lights and warm air. Sara got on, tapped her card, and found a seat by the window. She closed her eyes. Just for one minute, she thought.

It was not one minute.

When Sara opened her eyes, the bus was empty. The driver looked at her in the mirror. “Last stop,” he said. “Everybody off.”

Sara looked out of the window and her heart jumped. She didn’t know this street. The shops were different. The names were different. Then she saw the number on the front of the bus: 42. Not 24. She took the wrong bus because she was exhausted, and then she slept past every stop.

“Excuse me,” she said to the driver. “How do I get back to Green Street?”

“Green Street? That’s on the other side of the city,” he said. “Take the 15 from the square. But hurry — the last one leaves soon.” Then he closed the doors and drove away to the bus garage.

Sara stood alone on the dark street. Where was the square? She took out her phone to look at the map. The screen showed one per cent — and then it went black. The battery was dead.

No phone. No map. No idea where she was. Small drops of rain started to fall. Sara wanted to cry, but crying doesn’t find a bus stop, so she started to walk.

She needed directions, but the street was empty. Then, at the end of the road, she saw something strange: warm yellow lights, music, and the smell of hot food. She followed the smell.

3 · The night market

Behind the corner, there was a market. Not a big supermarket — a real street market, open at night. There were about twenty stalls with little lights above them. One stall sold fruit and vegetables. One sold old books. One sold flowers, cheese, honey, socks, and tea. And in the middle, there was a food stall with a long line of happy people.

Sara forgot her problem for a moment. In her small town, there was a market every Saturday, and she loved it as a child. She didn’t know that the city had places like this. It didn’t look like the city at all. It looked like home.

Behind the food stall stood a small woman with grey hair and quick, smiling eyes. She wore a red apron and moved like a dancer between her pots. When she saw Sara’s wet hair and worried face, she stopped.

“You look lost, love,” the woman said.

“I am lost,” Sara said. “I took the wrong bus, my phone died, and I need directions to the square. I have to catch the last 15.”

“The last 15 left ten minutes ago,” the woman said. Sara’s face fell. “But don’t worry. The night bus goes at ten. You have one hour. Sit down. You can’t wait in the rain with an empty stomach.”

Sara wanted to say no. The woman was a stranger, and her mother always said, “Be careful with strangers.” But this stranger gave her a bowl of hot soup and a piece of bread, and pointed at a dry chair under the roof of the stall. Sara sat down.

The soup was red, thick, and a little spicy. It was the best thing Sara ate all week. “This is amazing,” she said. “What is it?”

“My grandmother’s tomato soup,” the woman said. “I’m Rosa. This stall was my mother’s stall, and before that, my grandmother’s. Sixty years in this market.”

“Can I buy the recipe?” Sara joked.

Rosa laughed. “You can’t buy a recipe like this one, love. But maybe you can learn it.”

While Sara ate, Rosa lent her a phone charger from under the counter. “People forget things here every week,” she said. “Chargers, umbrellas, one time a small dog.” Sara laughed for the first time that day. Her phone slowly came back to life.

They talked for almost an hour. Sara told Rosa about her new job, her small flat, and her town by the sea. Rosa told Sara about the market: the fruit man who sang opera, the book lady who read three books every week, the flower man who was afraid of bees.

“Why is the market open at night?” Sara asked.

“Because people work all day,” Rosa said. “Twenty years ago, this market opened only in the morning, and it almost died. Nobody came. So we changed. Now we open when people come home — tired, hungry, and a little lonely. A market is not really about food, love. It’s about faces.”

Sara thought about the office, the fast people in the streets, and her quiet flat with the singing fridge. “I understand that,” she said quietly.

At ten minutes to ten, Rosa wrote something on a piece of paper and folded it two times. “Directions to the night bus,” she said. “Read the rest at home.”

“The rest?” Sara asked. But Rosa only smiled and turned to the next customer.

4 · The note

Sara found the night bus easily, because Rosa’s directions were perfect: left at the flower stall, right at the church, the stop is in front of the square. She got home at eleven o’clock, warm and full of soup.

In her flat, she opened the note again. Under the directions, there were three more lines, in small round letters:

“Nobody takes the wrong bus. Some buses just know where you need to go.
Come back on Saturday at five. I’m going to teach you the soup.
— Rosa”

Sara read the note three times. Then she put it on her fridge with a little magnet, and she went to bed smiling.

The next week was easier. She remembered nine names at work. She found a cheaper supermarket. And every evening, she checked the bus number two times before she got on. But she thought about the market a lot, because for one hour, in the rain, the big city felt like her small town.

On Wednesday, she told a colleague about the night market. “A night market? In this city?” the colleague said. “I lived here for ten years and I never heard of it.” Sara smiled. She knew something about the city that other people didn’t know. It was a small thing, but it made the city feel a little more like hers.

She called her mother on Thursday. “You were right, Mum,” she said. “I found my small town. It has twenty stalls and little yellow lights, and the best tomato soup in the world.”

On Saturday afternoon, Sara bought some flowers and took bus 42 — this time, on purpose. “I’m going to learn that recipe,” she told herself, “and I’m going to write it down for Mum.”

The market was there, with its little lights. The fruit man was singing. The book lady waved.

But Rosa’s stall was closed.

The pots were gone, the red apron was gone, and on the counter there was only one thing: a small white box with a name on it. The name was Sara.

Check your understanding

Read each question. Think about your answer. Then click “Show answer” to check.

Words to remember

Here are the key words again, in new sentences. Say each one out loud.

• exhausted — After the long football match, the players were exhausted.
• stranger — A kind stranger helped me carry my heavy bags.
• battery — My battery died, so I couldn’t call you last night.
• directions — We asked a police officer for directions to the station.
• market — On Sundays, we buy fresh vegetables at the market.
• stall — The cheese stall always has a long line of customers.
• lend (lent) — My brother lent me his bike for the weekend.
• recipe — This cake is easy — the recipe has only five steps.
• note — She left a note on the table: “Back at six.”

Talk about it · Write about it

Talk about it: Did you ever get lost in a new place? What happened? Did a stranger help you? Tell the story in the past simple.

Write about it: Write 6–8 sentences about a food you love. Who cooked it first for you? When did you eat it last? Use the past simple, and use because or so at least one time.

🎉 Well done — you read a whole A2 story in English! You also practised the past simple and nine useful new words.

But wait — Rosa’s stall was closed, and a white box with Sara’s name was waiting on the counter. What was inside the box? And where did Rosa go? You will find out in the next story…

Next story: Read another A2 story →

About this story: This is an original A2 graded reader (~1,600 words). It uses controlled elementary vocabulary, the past simple tense, and easy connectors, so A2 learners can understand about 98% of the words. Any harder word is explained before the story and used again inside it.

Khamis Maiouf

My name is Khamis Maiouf. I am the creator of the English Teacher Site, dedicated to providing valuable resources and insights for students around the world. With a passion for education and a commitment to helping students enhance their skills, I aim to make English teaching more effective and enjoyable for both educators and students.