Gemotions

The gate agent's voice was robotic, devoid of emotion, and it washed over Amelia like tepid water. "Delayed." The recital. Her daughter had worked tirelessly for this, practicing every day. She'd envisioned herself in the front row, beaming with pride. Now, it was just another missed opportunity.

She sat down heavily, the plastic of the chair cold against her skin. She had a sudden, overwhelming urge to stay put. The thought of fighting for another flight, for any possibility of arriving on time, felt exhausting. She picked up a magazine but didn't open it. The world outside the window seemed distant, unreal.