Gemotions

The flickering airport monitor seemed to mock Eleanor. It displayed the dreaded "Delayed" status next to her flight to New Orleans. She slumped onto a cold, plastic chair, the weight of disappointment settling in her stomach like a stone. Her grandmother's 90th birthday party, a milestone she'd promised to attend, was now slipping away.

She traced circles on the condensation of her water bottle, a rhythmic gesture that offered no solace. The celebratory chatter of other passengers grated on her ears. Every joyful laugh felt like a tiny, sharp jab.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, the words barely audible. A knot formed in her throat, tightening with each passing minute. The thought of her grandmother, surrounded by family, while she was stuck in this purgatory of a terminal, left her feeling utterly hollow.