A sugar-coated, milky-smooth voice, coming out of bright-red, lipstick-plastered lips of the bus' male steward, whispered delicately in Vibert's ear. In a language he couldn't understand. At Midnight! This was Vibert's dream. He shot upright from his recliner seat, his panicked eyes struggling to adjust in the harsh white glare of the bus' florescent lights. Shanna eyed him curiously. Over the public intercom flowed the sugar-coated, milky-smooth voice, coming out of bright-red, lipstick-plastered lips of the bus' male steward. It was midnight and, apparently, we were stopping for 'dinner'. "Rats", said Vibert (or something more Caribbean-ish). He had just fallen asleep. We had departed Krabi many, many ago before and he had found it difficult to fall asleep. 'Dinner' break took a better part of an hour and five hours later, we arrived at our stop.
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