Gemotions

The airport felt oppressively bright to Daniel. His business trip was postponed, the delay of his flight ensured he'd miss his daughter's school play. He watched, with a grim expression, as a family excitedly boarded a flight. Their destination was unknown, but their faces were bright with anticipation. The father held the child's hand, and the mother smiled at him.

His chest constricted. He'd been looking forward to this play for weeks, the chance to see his daughter on stage, to capture that moment of accomplishment. He had bought her a gift, carefully wrapped and tucked away in his briefcase. Now, the gift felt heavy, a symbol of his absence. He imagined the audience, the applause, and his daughter's beaming face. The thought made him feel a peculiar ache.