Airports are the great human distribution factories, and people-watching here can provide a writer with infinite possibilities. Every second there is a new, brief snapshot of humanity; it’s an endless stream of fodder. In fact, next to me in the security line at this very moment is a Tibetan monk, standing perfectly still and wearing his patience like a mask; a mother discreetly nursing her baby; and a marine, looking sharp and prideful in his best dress blues. I wonder where they...
TRACK 1: Fledglings Mia
The airport security agent was losing his patience. “Ma’am, I said you need to remove your shoes and place them into the bins.” She wasn’t intentionally ignoring him; she was preoccupied—well, more like staring into space. If we were graded on how efficiently we removed our belongings in order to place them in those little gray bins, I would have gotten an A-plus. The woman in front of me, however, was failing miserably. Her two children were running...