Chapter 2

Laylah looked at the ticket she held in her hands, the bus wouldn't be leaving for another hour.

"Just my luck, oh well." She sighed, as she placed her luggage in line with the rest of the people waiting to go into Canada. She always thought it odd that you had to stake your place in line quite early if you wanted a decent place to sit on the bus. Laylah really did not want to sit near the back, like on her trip to Chicago; she found that out the hard way. The stench emanating from the rear of the bus was unbearable, and she did not want to have to sit thru it again, not for the entire trip anyway.

The usual bells and whistles started to meld into one droning sound as Laylah sat on the bench closest to the gate that she was leaving. She adjusted the dress she was wearing and smoothed the wrinkles in her lap as she produced a velvet covered journal from the simple handbag that she had brought with her. Her mind was full of anticipation, and she knew she had to write it the thoughts down; after all, they could make for some interesting poetry at a later date.

As she removed the cap from her black felt pen, Laylah opened her journal and smoothed out the next available page. "I sit here alone..." She started, "I really do not know what to expect from this trip other than the fact that I should not really expect anything. David has always said expectations are often let down, that you should make the most of things as they happen. He is quite a smart person. I honestly cannot see why he hasn't a steady girlfriend, but he has been known to relish in the fact that he has come to terms with being by himself. I hope that, at least, for couple of days, I can give him some sort of comfort in knowing that he doesn't have to be totally alone. Yeah, this home cooked meal I am going to prepare him this evening will be one he won't forget for a while."

"Bus 2231 to Windsor and all points east now boarding at gate 12" The loud mumbled voice startled Laylah a bit, but she quickly got herself together and, with al the appropriate documents in hand, stepped in queue to the terminal.

"Do you know if we are taking the tunnel, or if we are taking the bridge?" Laylah asked the attendant that was checking the tickets and pass-documents.

"Hmmm. Good question. Let me ask." The lady said, as she turned and yelled to the 'official' looking person in the bus. "Harold, the driver says we're taking the bridge."

Laylah's heart sank. She was deathly afraid of heights and she knew that the AmbassadorBridge to Canada was one of the largest that she had personally seen. Her hands started to sweat as she boarded the bus; she knew that she had to choose the right seat so that she wouldn't have to look over the edge of the bridge when they crossed.

Choosing what looked to be a safe aisle seat; Laylah put her bag into the overhead compartment and sat down. She moved a little in the seat, these things were notorious for being uncomfortable, to get situated. As the driver started his speech on the 'dos and don'ts' of the trip, Laylah leaned her seat back and gently closed her eyes.