Gemotions

"Excuse me," she muttered to the gate agent, her voice barely above a whisper, "Is there any update?" The woman barely glanced up. A dismissive shake of the head. Her grandmother's birthday party. A milestone she'd planned for weeks. She had even baked the cake, and now it was probably going stale in the fridge back home.

She wandered away from the desk, her shoulders slumped, her steps dragging. She hadn't bothered to take any luggage. She felt a familiar hollowness in her chest, a sense of having failed yet again. She found a quiet corner and sat down, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone. The airport's festive atmosphere, the excited chatter of other passengers, seemed like a cruel joke.