I'm linking up with Lisa Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday....five minutes of writing without editing or over assessing. (Lovely exercise for this recovering perfectionist...)
We made our way to the back of the plane, our seats were in the very back. Unfortunately, that also meant everyone else had taken all the overhead space.
"No, you'll just have to keep looking yourself," she replied with irritation.
I looked at my husband, and tears started to form in my eyes. They threatened to spill.
"I can't handle this right now," I tell him. He gets me to our seats, and grasps our two carry-on pieces in his hands. "I'll get it, you sit."
"I'm sorry," I tell him, as the threatening tear storm looms and my eyes begin to seep tears.
He knows what the morning has been like. The rainstorm. The struggle to get a taxi. The emotions of leaving.
The sky cried the day we left, grey sad sky.
She hadn't stomped in that dirt puddle this morning, or had to hail a taxi three times, I tell myself. My nose begins to join in with my tears. He comes back, he knows. He's found a place for our bags. I burrow my head in his shoulder, and he asks, "You okay?"
"Yes, I'll be okay, I'm just overwhelmed."
I dry tears, but the heart still aches. The captain comes over the loud speaker, and we hunker down for a fix up on the tarmac. The journey begins with a single step, one foot after the other, numbly following the other.
10 hours ago