Gemotions

Amelia stared at the announcement screen, her lips pressed into a thin line. The wedding! She was supposed to be in Tuscany, celebrating her best friend's marriage. Now, she was stuck in O'Hare, the terminal a concrete prison. The cheerful chatter of other passengers grated on her ears.

She felt a tightening in her chest, a sensation akin to being wrapped in invisible chains. She reread the text from her friend: “Where are you? The ceremony starts soon!” Each word was a tiny jab, amplifying the frustration. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

She considered calling the airline again, but the automated voice, with its cheerful unconcern, was infuriating. She opted to sit, arms crossed, watching the clock hands creep forward at an agonizingly slow pace. It all felt so unreal, like a bad dream.