No Time for postcards
John stands with a backpack on in the large modern airport terminal, scanning the departure schedule. There are morning fights to Rome, Barcelona, London, and Moscow. John notices a beautiful blonde lady pass. She gives a slight smile, enough to catch his attention.
I love travelling, he thinks to himself, there’s no schedule and no demands. John, dressed in well-worn jeans and a wrinkled navy shirt, strolls to the British Airways counter and buys a ticket to Heathrow.
John prepares to pass through security. He takes off his belt and places the contents of his pockets into a plastic container for the X-ray machine: phone, American passport, plane ticket, and wallet. After passing through security, John heads towards the departure gate. He stands in line with 15 people, anxiously waiting to hand over his boarding pass. Children laugh in a nearby lounge and families stand in groups saying their goodbyes. John shues along the queue, keeping his head down.
I enjoy meeting new people.
A tall, blonde, muscular man in his mid-30s, dressed head to toe in tight black clothing, crashes through a young family of four as he hastily heads down the corridor towards the boarding gate. The husband of the family yells out in protest.
But not this guy… He wants to kill me!
John inches nearer to the departure gate, but the line is moving too slowly. He looks around and sees a bathroom behind him. It’s a possible escape route, but he would miss his flight. John wipes perspiration from his top lip. Two airline staff members casually feed boarding passes into a machine. Next to them is a newspaper stand. John walks to the stand, takes a German paper, reenters the line and buries his face in the pages.
I haven’t done anything for him to want to kill me. Well… nothing that was my fault.
Want more… No Time for Postcards – sample