Here to pick up the slightly delayed Finch, i wait. With the people with flowers and balloons and signs, Welcome Home Esperanza.
Some people really dress up to pick people up at the airport.
Panicked people who should be at terminal 3, or at domestic arrivals, dashing off like their people will be forever lost.
I run into someone from one of my client projects, whose name I can’t remember at first, out of context.
Behind me a Chinese man is singing into his phone like a microphone.
I see the woman I could be in 10 years, looking absolutely certain about where she is going, marching furiously ahead, darting around and trying to get ahead of the slow drifty befuddled people.