Gemotions

The terminal was a wasteland of delayed dreams. Sarah gripped her bag so tightly her knuckles were white. Her grandmother’s last birthday. She’d promised to be there, to share one last slice of cake and tell her how much she loved her. Now, the ticking clock on the overhead display served as a constant taunt, each passing second a dagger to her heart.

The bland, uniform aesthetic of the airport intensified her agitation. Every face she saw felt alien, disconnected. She wanted to scream, to shatter the glass and escape this stagnant existence, to move towards the event she was now missing.

She found a quiet corner, away from the chatter. The only comfort she took was her phone, on which she could see her grandmother’s smile from their last video call. It felt like a small, inadequate shield against the overwhelming weight of her disappointment.