Gemotions

The automatic doors of the airport hissed open and closed incessantly, a rhythm that was now profoundly irritating to John. He adjusted his tie, already feeling the oppressive heat of his impending frustration. The delays were a symbol of the modern world’s inherent incompetence.

His business partner’s retirement party. He had been planning the surprise for months. The heartfelt speech, the tailored gift, the carefully orchestrated atmosphere of celebration. Now, all his preparations were in the hands of the airline gods.

He scoffed at the sight of a bored-looking employee leaning against a desk, idly checking his phone. John cleared his throat, but the employee didn't even acknowledge his existence. "Unbelievable," he mumbled, turning away in disgust.