My Move

The Pawn Skipped

Walking into line, I take one look back at my parents. I see my dad holding my mother as she cries. I honestly don't know why she's crying. It's not like she ever really cared about me, but I smile back at them and wave my last goodbye. I don't know when I'll see them again. Probably not long enough. I turn back to the line and hand the attendant my ticket and drivers license.
     "Next!" She shouts. I walk past her and the other people scattered around her trying to find they're terminal. As if there were that many in this airport. Welcome to Portland, Oregon. Enjoy the wonderful rain we have everyday and the glorious summer smoke from the wildfire started by the moronic teenagers. I walk past all the shops and bathroom and finally found gate A9.
Portland, OR to Charleston, SC
Even though my flight isn't until 10 my parents brought me here two hours early. Again as if the airport was that big. Still having to wait another hour and a half, I pull my headphones from my carryon and plug myself into my phone. The orchestra playing through the small buds breaks the sounds of people pushing by. If only life as simple as an instrument. One life per instrument. The women rocking here baby in her arms would be a melodious harp, the man drinking his coffee while reading the newspaper would be a strong trumpet, and I believe I would be a piano. Strong and yet beautiful. As powerful as a wave and as soft as a flower. As brilliant as a flame. I believe that any person would agree that the piano is the epitome of instruments. Though you can never have an orchestra without other instruments; like the harp or trumpet.
Feeling the vibration from my phone I open my eyes and look at the brightened screen.
"Have a safe flight. See you soon."
- Aunt Jessie
Soon indeed, aunt Jess. Soon indeed.