The bus to Syracuse is one of these double decker busses that one can easily see over the construction and look to the greens. It is 29 degrees (I need to start using Celsius if I ever plan to get used to it). I arrived at 12:20 and we are just leaving shortly before 1:30. Not ironically all the luggage spilled onto the sidewalk once the driver opened...a man of even more than my own short-stature, deeply tanned skin and with a rancorous look in his eyes. He hated his job and everybody on that bus. Even I, yet to step on and with no prior relationship. Pure bitterness. It is warm and I do not blame him.
The bus has Wi-Fi and a diet coke and snickers bar lunch will tide me over until Toronto. Rough living, huh? Not a cloud in the sky. Perhaps I'll make conversation with the woman kitty-corner from my seat. She looks friendly and confused. I will likely study music and fall asleep to the unsynchronized drum beats of all the machines around me.
I'll be in Toronto in a few hours. I cannot wait.
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