Gemotions

The announcement blared through the terminal, a stark pronouncement of disaster. The news made him feel like he was going to be sick. His grandmother, the matriarch of the family, was in her final days. This flight was his last chance.

He’d booked the earliest possible flight, a frantic race against the inevitable. Now, he was caught in this gridlock of travel. The minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness. He slumped onto a bench, his legs suddenly weak. He kept trying to calculate how much time he was losing.

His phone buzzed, a call from his aunt. He answered, his voice barely a whisper. She told him the prognosis, the tone measured and grave. He gripped the phone harder, his knuckles bone white. He couldn’t speak, the words caught in his throat.