Gemotions

The air conditioning blasted at arctic temperatures, but she still felt feverish. The funeral. *Her* best friend. All the memories, all the shared laughter, now inaccessible. The delay seemed like a personal insult. She had to say goodbye.

She started to pace, her steps quick and uneven. She ran her hands through her hair, tugging at the strands. The terminal buzzed with activity, a constant reminder of how much life was continuing to move forward, regardless. Every announcement felt personal, each delay a fresh blow.