Gemotions

"This can't be happening," I muttered, the words barely audible. My voice cracked with a mixture of disbelief and defeat. The reason for my flight was my son's first recital, a moment I’d dreamt of for months. Now, the airport was mocking me.

I rested my forehead against the cool window. Outside, the rain poured down, a gloomy symphony mirroring my mood. My limbs felt heavy, my energy utterly drained. I knew that I was defeated.

I watched the other passengers with an almost detached interest. They were chatting, laughing, hurrying to their destinations. I was a spectator, stuck on the sidelines of my own life.