Gemotions

The constant drone of the announcements felt like a direct assault. Eleanor sat, ramrod straight, on the hard plastic seat, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white. Her grandmother’s 90th birthday party. The only person left of her family. This delay was nothing short of an utter disregard.

She snapped at the elderly man who accidentally bumped her arm. She wanted to yell at the person who booked the flight, at the pilot, at the entire airline. Every cell of her body burned. She was a coiled spring, ready to release. She wanted to obliterate anything in her way.