She'd made it off the plane at 1:08, collected her luggage at 1:50 (somehow coming to the carousel long before it could, despite being the last from her flight to reach the crowd at luggage claim) and now would wait, periodically pacing the length of the windows along one wall to look out over the parking lot. Her limp wasn't as bad as it could've been, since she'd had time to walk some the stiffness from sitting off, but it was still showing more than it might've, because she was tired; traveling in the armpit of the night (if not a bad night) did that to a body. It was worth it, though, especially for a quick-turn trip---she'd scheduled it so as to avoid missing any work, she was bound to get something good out of the bartering she was down to do, and, with a little luck, she'd have the chance to catch up with a friend or two.
S M F I I A M T O V N X X X A M I F U C A N she'd said---sent. If nothing came of that message, she supposed she'd scrap some of her plans, and start fresh at six. How bad could it be, to begin with a blank slate when the day was brand new? And that was the worst-case scenario, not when but only if it seemed she should give up on any answer. Meanwhile... she would wait.
And wait. And wait. She still had two and a half hours to kill, and even a large airport was pretty dull at this hour. That would've been why the boy---one of few people still present, and one of just two near where she'd stopped to sit---caught her eye. It wasn't his fidgety fussing with his sleeves, or the bandages on his arms (though she noticed those in the same second, the way she'd notice bruise, birthmark, scar, stitch, acne, ink anything crossing bare skin) but the flicker of wondering. The airport was almost empty, and really only an enormous waiting room; what was there to wonder about?
Oh.
In wondering that, Sam had answered her own question. Other people, of course. She smiled a little at herself, at wondering what the kid was wondering, and opted to wave when his eyes fell on her. It wasn't much, just a flick of her annotated hand, but it was at least meant to be an amiable acknowledgement: Salut. Same boat!
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Date: 2017-12-02 11:29 pm (UTC)She'd made it off the plane at 1:08, collected her luggage at 1:50 (somehow coming to the carousel long before it could, despite being the last from her flight to reach the crowd at luggage claim) and now would wait, periodically pacing the length of the windows along one wall to look out over the parking lot. Her limp wasn't as bad as it could've been, since she'd had time to walk some the stiffness from sitting off, but it was still showing more than it might've, because she was tired; traveling in the armpit of the night (if not a bad night) did that to a body. It was worth it, though, especially for a quick-turn trip---she'd scheduled it so as to avoid missing any work, she was bound to get something good out of the bartering she was down to do, and, with a little luck, she'd have the chance to catch up with a friend or two.
S M F I I A M T O V N X X X A M I F U C A N she'd said---sent. If nothing came of that message, she supposed she'd scrap some of her plans, and start fresh at six. How bad could it be, to begin with a blank slate when the day was brand new? And that was the worst-case scenario, not when but only if it seemed she should give up on any answer. Meanwhile... she would wait.
And wait. And wait. She still had two and a half hours to kill, and even a large airport was pretty dull at this hour. That would've been why the boy---one of few people still present, and one of just two near where she'd stopped to sit---caught her eye. It wasn't his fidgety fussing with his sleeves, or the bandages on his arms (though she noticed those in the same second, the way she'd notice
bruise, birthmark, scar, stitch, acne, inkanything crossing bare skin) but the flicker of wondering. The airport was almost empty, and really only an enormous waiting room; what was there to wonder about?Oh.
In wondering that, Sam had answered her own question. Other people, of course. She smiled a little at herself, at wondering what the kid was wondering, and opted to wave when his eyes fell on her. It wasn't much, just a flick of her annotated hand, but it was at least meant to be an amiable acknowledgement: Salut. Same boat!