Gemotions

"Another delay?" Sarah muttered, her voice barely audible above the airport's din. She slumped further into her seat, the padded cushioning doing little to alleviate her growing sense of unease. The airport itself was a blur, a collection of faces and movement.

The graduation ceremony was tonight. Her daughter. She had promised. Her fingers found their way to her purse, and she fumbled for a crumpled photograph. It was of her and her daughter, a photo they had taken when her daughter was a little girl. She clutched it, her knuckles white.

She felt a strange sense of unreality, as if all of this was a play. As if her life had become someone else's script. She looked around, the faces of her fellow passengers a sea of indifference, their own lives unfolding in a world that wasn't hers. A tear rolled down her cheek.