Gemotions

The sterile smell of disinfectant and stale coffee clung to Ethan as he paced, the soles of his shoes squeaking against the polished floor. His grandfather’s final moments. He was going to miss them. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a tangled mess.

He felt a tightness in his jaw, a constant ache that throbbed with each passing minute. The airport’s upbeat music grated on his nerves, a jarring counterpoint to the turmoil within. He felt a desperate urge to break something, to scream, to lash out at the indifferent world.

He stopped pacing and slammed his fist on the counter. The attendant looked up, her expression unchanging. "When will it leave?" he growled, his voice hoarse. Her answer was the same: delayed.