Gemotions

The endless expanse of the tarmac, now obscured by a haze of early morning fog, held no sting for David. He wasn't bothered by the delay. He’d already known he would be late for his friend’s wedding. It was a long trip. The announcement of the flight being pushed back a few hours was nothing.

David looked at the small, worn leather journal in his hands, remembering he hadn't had a moment to write in a week. He opened it, and the scent of aged paper and ink filled the air. He began to scribble ideas, thoughts, and fragments of stories.

He leaned back in his seat and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his shoulders ease. The rhythmic scratching of his pen against the page was the only sound that mattered. The world outside, the airport, the delayed flight, faded into insignificance.