Gemotions

The flickering airport lights blurred, each one a double image. Amelia blinked, the effort heavy in her eyelids. She slumped further into the uncomfortable plastic seat, the hard surface digging into her back. Her head lolled, her neck protesting with a dull ache. The wedding was supposed to start in two hours, but the announcement crackled over the speakers, delaying her flight. "Oh, blast," she muttered, her voice thick and sluggish.

She fished her phone out, thumbs moving with the grace of a toddler, scrolling through notifications. Messages from her sister, filled with frantic emojis, mocked her with their energetic urgency. Amelia let out a long, drawn-out sigh. The thought of replying, of formulating even a simple sentence, felt like an insurmountable task.

The stale air in the terminal seemed to thicken around her, a heavy blanket she couldn't shrug off. She closed her eyes, just for a moment, to rest them.