Gemotions

The airport felt oppressively crowded. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and desperation. "Delayed until further notice," the scrolling text on the monitors mocked him, again. He was supposed to be in London for his grandmother's eightieth birthday.

He slumped onto a hard plastic chair, feeling a sinking sensation in his chest. His grandmother was frail, and this celebration had been planned for months. He had promised her he would be there. He’d told her how much he loved her, how he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now, his absence was looking inevitable.

A wave of helplessness washed over him. He fiddled with the strap of his carry-on bag, the leather cold against his fingers. He imagined her disappointment, the sadness in her eyes. He closed his own eyes, picturing her, small and smiling, surrounded by family. The thought was painful.