Gemotions

The airport buzzed with a manic energy, but for Clara, time had frozen. Each passing second, she knew, was another moment stolen from her grandmother's side. The flight, delayed due to a sudden storm, was now estimated to depart in three hours, three agonizing hours.

She sat rigid in her seat, her knuckles white as she gripped the armrests. Her grandmother's birthday. The special meal, the familiar stories, the shared memories – all fading away with each passing minute. The airport announcements were nothing but a hateful cacophony to her ears.

Clara imagined her grandmother, probably waiting for her at the front door. A single tear traced a path down her cheek, leaving behind a cold track of grief. She closed her eyes, trying to conjure the scent of her grandmother's kitchen, to hold onto some fragment of comfort.