Gemotions

The delay felt like a personal vendetta against Arthur. He tapped his foot, the rhythm mirroring his building agitation. His daughter's recital. Years of practice, a moment of pride for both of them. He envisioned the stage, the other parents, the applause he wouldn’t be there to hear. The airport’s relentless announcements and the constant shuffling of feet were getting to him.

He spotted a child, happily chasing pigeons, and felt a surge of pure, unadulterated loathing. He turned and walked away. He headed for the bar, needing a drink, a distraction, anything to silence the internal storm. He slammed a fist on the bar, the bartender not even flinching.