Whereupon Our Heroine Writes a Novel and Accidentally Discovers the Ending on a Bus, Of all Places

Our heroine bikes to work 4 out of 5 days a week. (She's like a dentist recommending Trident.)

On the 5th day -- on her Day of Rest -- she takes the bus.

But the bus, for some odd reason, provides her with more than just amusement. And today, of all days, she was able to end her Novel, her Tomb, her Unfinished 600 page Behemoth that she's been working on for the past 2.5 years, from a conversation she happened to overhear.

Now begins the editing and re-editing and doubting and self-doubting and hand wringing.

And then....?