Gemotions

"Another hour," the gate agent chirped, her voice dripping with artificial cheer. Sarah nearly growled. This was the third announcement, and each one chipped away at the fragile peace she’d desperately clung to. Her mother's art exhibition, a lifetime of dedication, was the reason for her trip. The opening would be starting, and she wouldn’t be there. The agent continued, "We apologize for any inconvenience..."

She slammed the magazine shut, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. The airport’s relentless bustle felt like a personal insult, people rushing to vacations and reunions. She pictured her mother, alone, the culmination of all her efforts. She leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, the cold seeped into her bones. *Inconvenience*, she repeated silently, a bitter taste in her mouth.