Gemotions

The airport's fluorescent lights seemed to dim, casting long shadows that mirrored the shadows lengthening in her spirit. She picked at the plastic seal on her sandwich, unable to find an appetite. The conference. Her presentation. All gone, snatched away by the arbitrary whims of air travel. Her meticulously crafted slides felt like a waste, a monument to her dashed hopes.

She slumped against the cold glass, tracing the condensation with her finger. Her breath fogged the window, obscuring the world outside. The bright colors of the airport faded into a dull haze. She closed her eyes, trying to conjure the energy to re-engage, to find the words to communicate with the airline, to call the conference organizers. But the words, like the departing flights, seemed to be moving beyond her reach.