#21

She was waiting in a poorly formed line at the gate for her turn to board she overheard a man waking through the terminal say into his phone: When I left this airport last week I had a mother. When I arrived at this airport this week I no longer had a mother.

There must be many things that are lost in the space between arriving and departing a particular airport. Hair, money, receipts, mothers, gloves, jewelry…not to mention the intangibles like time, sports matches, and one’s mind. What if there were a new area added to the terminal—just before baggage claim and ground transportation—where travelers can declare what they have lost? It could it be combined with some kind of grief counseling and insurance claim forms.

She was pushed out of her imagination by the man standing behind her in line nudging her on the shoulder. Ahead of her a large gap had opened and she had not moved up. Huffing, the man standing behind her cut in front of her. He had lost his patience.