She Stands. Waiting.

A wandering weary traveler, walking through a lonely bustling airport. People all around her rushing, hugging tearful goodbyes, kissing magical, welcoming hellos and she stands. Waiting.

The warmth of the afternoon and the anticipation of the long flight is taking it's toll on her spirit. Nothing terribly noticeable, unless you're paying attention to detail. She is perfectly groomed and accessorized. Hair neatly aranged in ringletts about her shoulders. Flawless skin, radiating last moments of happiness a few days before, and she stands. Waiting.

He's comming. Even if it's just for a minute, to say goodbye. To say, I'll miss you. Her shoulders droop a little and tears flow wildly down cheeks tanned by the sun. He's comming she thinks to herself, and she stands. Waiting.

She begins to pace, back and forth, the clean tiled floor waxed to a high shine like glass. The shoe shine man hocking his talents, the stewardess rushing past with an insincere smile. She lookes out of the windows, she watches all the doors. Willing him to come to her. Her heart is sinking, the clock is ticking and she stands. Waiting.

Security is long and impersonal. She takes her place in line looking back all the while. The children are fidgeting, the elderly are wavering, the bussinessmen are tapping impatient, nervous feet. Slowly progressing toward the momentum of flight. She turns to look back once more as her boots come off, and she stands. Waiting.

Through the xray and the probing watchfull eyes of strangers passing the time she puts her boots back on. The willful spirit that was there moments ago has left and drained her of all her energy. More tears spilling out onto the floor, more compassionate stares from passers by. He didn't come, even just for a minute to say goodbye. To say, I'll miss you. She no longer is standing, but is forever waiting.