October

Delilah's right temple was growing colder by the second. She could feel the painful chilliness sinking beneath her pale skin; she knew it would somehow touch her brain, icing itself over all of the lobes. She ignored this pain by watching the droplets skitter across the window of a bus. She liked to think they were racing, instead of being forcibly pushed away by the wind. In the space that was in front of her mouth, the glass was foggy from her lazy but undeniably warm breath. Her pace of breathing was slow, so the foggy cloud would appear once she exhaled, but it would take its time disappearing while she inhaled. In a matter of seconds, it would reappear.

Delilah knew that ironically, she could count on this window cloud instead of other things in her life, especially with the fact that her father was recently diagnosed with cancer. She had the clearest memory of that day. She remembered sitting in the doctor's office, hearing him rattle away the diagnosis. She couldn't hear him, though: she was trying to think of everything in her power to stop the tumor, but there was nothing she could do. After she came to that conclusion, she felt herself succumb to a wave of nausea and dizziness. Aside from those two physical reactions to the news, she felt horrible that day: miserable, pathetic, and the worst: useless.

Delilah could only imagine how her father felt.

There was also the fact that she was currently in England. She was miles and miles away from her father's small apartment in Portland, Oregon and even though she was in England for barely a couple of hours, she was already homesick. In some ways, being in this new location was possibly worse than finding out her father had seven months to live. She deeply thought about it for a couple of minutes and came to the conclusion that moving was just as equal to her father's diagnosis. In the end, she was losing her favorite world, her father, and gaining another one that was foreign to her, England.

Delilah finally brought her eyes from the drops of rain to the actual outside world. She quickly found out that it wasn't very pretty to look at: the sky was a nefarious and impenetrable gray. The clouds made it seem as if they were just as grumpy as she was. They hung low in the sky with ignorant carelessness, making some parts of the small town dark and gloomy. Overall, Delilah didn't enjoy this place, even if she may be judging it by its cover and unlucky weather. In a way, this place did remind her of Portland: the dampness and the moisture in the air; the dangling clouds; the continuously rainy days. Maybe her mother knew and understood that this would be her home away from home: it was like it, after all.

Delilah pulled her head away from the window and flinched when her neck disagreed with the action. She rubbed her neck with a cold hand and looked behind her. The rest of the bus was silent and nearly empty, except for a couple of stragglers. One of them was an older woman: she was huddled over something, but Delilah couldn't see because of the seats. She could only view her frumpy coat, which used to be a bright pink: it was dirty from age and use. The woman looked staid with lines marking her face. Perhaps her face was like this from wear and tear as well.

In the very back on the bus, Delilah could make out a figure occupying the entire row of seats. He was asleep and altogether looked very worn-out. He had a red, misshapen beard that seemed like it wanted to go everywhere. All of the articles of clothing he wore did not match: the red and black fleece shirt with the plaid design did not compliment the bright blue shirt underneath, which was covered in miscellaneous stains. They were all uncanny colors that Delilah didn't know where they wanted to come from. Overall, the clothes seemed like they couldn't come up with one, suitable look: they all had to be individual, different, and zany. Suddenly, the man snored abruptly and his shoulder moved before he was still and quiet again. Delilah looked at the front of the bus again: she was afraid that somehow he knew she was watching him.

When she looked to her left, she saw her ever-endearing mother asleep with her head against the seat. Delilah knew this trip was hard for her, especially when they were taking the horrible way of human travel. Her mother, Iris, was used to traveling, however, with passing messages back and forth, but that was her calling, her duty. Goddesses have their travel limits, too, Delilah thought as she swiftly pushed away a piece of black hair away from her mother's eyes. Delilah had the same color hair; in fact, she was an exact copy of her mother. She knew her father's side of the family wasn't too pleased about that. She knew they were angry that her father sired a daughter without marriage. Maybe that's why they wouldn't help us in this situation, she cynically thought.

The stopping of the bus pulled Delilah away from her thoughts. The bus driver gave her a sideway glance over his shoulder as if to say: We're finally here now. Delilah nodded at him once before she gently tapped her mother's shoulder. Her mother's eyes flickered open at her touch, revealing warm, brown orbs. Her small lips pulled into a wide smile as she perked up in her seat. She looked at the bus driver.

"Are we here?" Her eyebrows rose in a look of expectation. In an opposite way, the bus driver's eyebrows came together and slowly nodded, giving her mother a dumbfounded look. Like the polite man he was, he replied:

"Yes, ma'am," His accent was crisp as he hopped from his seat and walked over to the pair. "Do you ladies need help with your bags?" Iris gave her daughter a look of surprise from over her shoulder.

"Oh my goodness, what a gentlemen," She mused as she climbed out from the seat. "That would be wonderful, dear." The bus driver nodded and smiled before he reached up and took Delilah's bags from the metal shelves that were above them. Delilah's duffle bag, the one that held her most prized possessions, was handled a bit too roughly and Delilah shot him a cautious look as she headed towards the door. The bus driver gave her an apologetic look as he secured his hold on her duffle bag better.

Iris was humming like a bird as she stood by the bus stop as she waited for her daughter and the bus driver. Delilah climbed down the stairs first and the bus driver came second. He warily handed Delilah her bags back who quickly took them away from him. Iris gave the man a bright smile.

"Thank you so much for taking care of us," Iris said as she fished through the pockets of her raincoat. She had a look of frustration until if flashed away once she found what she was looking for. She flicked a gold coin in the air with a ping as the metal hit her thumbnail. It sparkled even in the dim afternoon light. The bus driver caught it in his open palms and studied it with awe.

"No, thank you, ma'am," He murmured as he held the coin in between the pads of his fingers. His eyes widened as if he realized something. He looked back to the woman as if she were a miracle worker. "I collect coinage from around the world, and I've been looking for a drachma for all the years I've been living." He gingerly placed the coin in his pocket. "Now, I only have three more left." Iris let out a benevolent laugh.

"Congratulations, dear, I'm glad I could help you." She quickly glanced at her daughter who looked anything but amused. She let out a sigh and looked back at the man. "I would love to stay and chat, but I'm afraid I have to get my daughter somewhere." She turned to go and Delilah quickly followed. Iris looked over her shoulder. "Good luck with the rest of your collection!" From faraway, Delilah could hear the bus driver let out a happy chuckle. She could feel him waving at them, too.

"Thank you!" He called out to her. Iris turned her body slightly to wave back to him. As they continued to walk, Delilah could hear the engine of the bus start up again before it drove off, carrying everyone but them.

For some reason she didn't think plausible, Delilah was relieved.

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