Gemotions

The airport felt like a pressure cooker. Sweat beaded on David’s forehead as he listened to the incessant announcements, his gaze darting from the departure board back to the small, framed photo in his briefcase. His wife’s graduation. He had promised to be there.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more a plea than an action. He bit down hard on his lower lip, trying to steady his shaking hands. The news report blared in the background, a disembodied voice talking about flight delays worldwide.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, picturing her face. The joy of the day. The look in her eyes as he handed over the flowers. He felt a sudden, burning anger that threatened to consume him.