baggage claim // l.h

second • nina

Nina Levina 

John F. Kennedy International Airport

For the longest time, mankind had been trying to figure out a way fly. As far back as the Greeks, Icarus and Daedalus, Leonardo, and the Chinese. Flash forward to the early twentieth century and Wilbur and Orville are piloting a flying contraption into the sky. Nina would gladly keep her feet on the ground, thank you very much.

Feeling steady for the first time in the eight and a half hour flight, Nina craned her neck towards the small window to her right. She'd kept her eyes clenched shut throughout the rocky landing, but now the death machine, as she wished to call it, was firmly balanced on tarmac. The snoring lady by the window seat had not even batted an eyelash through the obnoxious end-of-flight round of applause.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is 4:47 p.m. and 20 degrees fahrenheit. Welcome to New York." Nina let out a sigh, clutching to the arm rests as people started to stand one by one, searching through the overhead compartment for their carry on items.

Her backpack rested a heap underneath her seat, and her journal was still splayed out on her lap. Nina focused on the frayed pages as people moved around her, trying to focus on something other than the incessant noise coupled with the sounds already in her head.

It seemed like forever before the aisle emptied out, the sleeping lady next to her too unaware to the arrival. Nina rose from her seat, slinging a strap of her bag over her shoulder, her journal protectively clutched against her chest.

She kept her eyes on the ground, mumbling a goodbye to the flight attendant who cheerily wished her a good day as she walked the narrow hallway into the airport. Nina could hear the growing murmur of the airport so dauntingly taunting her, the whir of wheeled luggage and the overhead muffled speaking.

Nina followed the bold signs to baggage claim, eager to get outside to her city. She knew the sun would be setting early today, it was winter after all. The sun was probably hidden behind the tall buildings and the smog, doing little to warm the freezing city. She was practically buzzing inside her fleece coat.

The group of people gathered in front of the conveyor belts when she arrived at baggage claim was intimidating, and she stood off to the side, waiting as the people disappeared with their baggage through the door leading straight to customs.

Finally, after much anticipation, Nina reached for her familiar red suitcase. She lifted off the conveyor belt, struggling with the luggage that seemed to be heavier than she remembered. Maybe it was another weight, the weight that had pushed her to board that godforsaken plane in the first place that seemed so heavy to bear.

Rolling the bag along the tiled floors of the airport, Nina sighed all the way to customs, deciding to ignore the turned off phone in her coat pocket which surely had messages she didn't want to hear awaiting for her.

Nina decided to not focus on the impending doom of cell phone calls and dial tones, instead, she prepared herself for the draining questions the immigration officials had for her, and with her passport in hand and a heavy heart, she pushed the door open.