My sandals break rushing to the check-in counter only to find out the flight is three hours delayed. Better late than having missed it. Grab a seat, hurry up and wait.
I shower in cold water in a bathroom older than my Fathers Father and stained with dried mold with an appreciation of having water to shower with at-all, which is better than another full day waiting in a busy airport.
Moments like this it is profoundly understood deep within that she is undoubtedly cradling me. The conflicting emotions return and tighten my chest. Only in this moment I do not fight it. Alone this quiet evening I open the damn I’ve held back for weeks. I weep at first and then sob.
