June 2, 2015

AIRPORT ROSES

I was sitting there in an airport waiting 

for my plane. A guy with a great smile 

and a dozen red roses just walked by. 

He stopped to look at the arrival and departure scoreboard. He checked his watch for the exact time - and then sat down - some 10 yards across from me. 

I was sitting there far enough away

to read his novel. A page turner?

A love story? A mystery? Whom was

this woman  he came to catch? Where was

she coming from? Is this their home?

I prefer reading these stories to books

in the airport magazines, books, last

minute gift stores. I am a people reader.

He looked 30. The white tissue paper that

wrapped the red roses was the cover of his novel. Will I be sitting here long enough to read the end of this chapter, this scene? 

He stood up to walk over to double check

ARRIVALS once again. Just then the door

on the other side opened and out came

a crowd of arrivals. Which one was she?

I watched - loving the feeling of the moment on my face. And then he rushed towards the redhead in the wheel chair. He presented her the dozen red roses. 

He got down on both knees to hug 

and kiss her. She couldn’t get up. Wow. What’s that all about? What happened? 

Is this her for life - in a wheelchair?

Wait a minute. How did he get in here? 

He's not a passenger. Are they headed 

for another flight? I sat there watching him wheeling her away - straight down 

the center of the concourse. 

Well, that’s another chapter. And I won’t be able to finish the book. Ugh. Bummer.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2015