As I walk off the plane I start to wonder, just how many planes land here a day... How many people come off those planes anyhow? Flooding terminals with every kind of human to walk the earth.
I look at groups passing by as I walk down the hall to baggage claim. "Wonderfully ironic, the girl with a shit ton of personal baggage is going to go claim it." I mutter under my breathe.
Continuing to watch passersby...there is a group of Indian women dressed in brightly colored saris, "god the rainbow coalition would love them" I scoff to myself. I have no actual issues with either of those things, however, the miserable sarcastic monotone way I kept stating the obvious as he would made me chuckle a bit in memory.
My thoughts progress further and develop into a series of questions...why are these people here?...where are they going?...what are they going to do?...when are they all scheduled to arrive and depart?...Do they even notice one another?...
They divulge further...how do we all eventually end up here at one point in time or another...and although we all have places to go...Are we actually going anywhere?
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Untitled Love
General FictionAndy is getting sick again. She can't stop it. Her friends and family are worried about her. She doesn't know how she will make it alone, until she meets Him. Her whole world flips, floats, crashes and burns. How will she survive the hardest thing s...
