Gemotions

The airport buzzed with a low, anxious energy. Amelia stared at the screen, flight to Paris, delayed. It was the gallery opening of her friend, a fellow artist. A show that had been months in the planning. Now, she was going to miss it.

She ran a hand through her hair, a nervous gesture. She picked at the chipped nail polish on her thumb. She felt the warmth of her own skin, the sensation a contrast to the coldness of the situation.

She called her friend, trying to sound upbeat. She described the airport delay, but the forced cheerfulness felt false even to her own ears. Her friend spoke, but the words were a blur, the meaning lost in the waves of disappointment.