In the front row there is a large group of adults with suit cases and pictures of Disney characters on their clothes chatting about the weather in Florida and the possibility of rain. A middle aged American man with a cowboy hat and a picture of Donald Duck on his shirt stands to give himself a fresh blast of deodorant before sitting back down. It lingers in the air much to the disapproval Of the other passengers as it clashes with the air fresheners inside the terminal and the sickly scent cheap fast food.
There is the constant drone of the mechanical, yet pleasant, voice on the public address system calling for someone to go to the nearest help desk or announcing that flight 896 is now boarding at gate 1 1 As a woman briskly walks to the desk it is clear that under the calm and composed surface there is an undercurrent of anticipation, impatience, and boredom. Behind the help desk is a woman with long blonde hair tied up in a neat pony tail. Opposite her is a decrepit old man wearing a baggy woolen umpire and tan chinos. Behind is a long queue of people waiting for more than ten minutes as he is standing there talking to the young woman.
After fifteen minutes it seems SSH?s reached her limit as her fake smile falters when she asks him to move along and then turns into an angry scowl and orders him to leave before she contacts security. The old man shuffles off muttering about ‘respect and attitude of people these days’. At the other end of the small terminal a mother and her child are steadily placing their items in the Auber trays provided by the airport; getting ready to slide it down the black conveyor belt as an important looking business man in a blue pin striped suit casually waits behind them.
The little boy is obviously dressed to see someone special and is proudly displayed in an olive green Hollister jacket and a blue and red striped shirt underneath, his pants are clean button can tell they have been worn dozens of times and he has spent a lot of time on his knees probably playing with the precious red race car he is now happily lacing in the container which is now passing through the airport scanner.
After obediently placing his items in the tray the little boy slowly but obviously thrilled walked through the big airport scanner grinning at the tall TTS (Transportation Security Administration) agent ahead of him. After being waved through by security the little boy and mum walk through to await their flight. Outside the huge windows overlooking the tarmac runway, the sun is slowly sinking below the horizon. A group of teenagers wander past and one tops to glance out at the sunset.
The teenager, with a calm look in him eye, mumbles to himself that is a ‘golden eye looking down at the awaiting passengers with contempt’ before picking up his polyester backpack and hurrying after his companions. On the tarmac below is a monstrous Air bus with the numbers AWAY printed on its tail. It taxis towards the run way before turning around and then takes its kilometer long run up before leaping into the air and disappearing into the clouds leaving nothing but a hint of fuel in the air.
