The
air conditions labors to provide some relief from the unbearable island
heats. The sound of thrones of people hurrying through the terminal
trying to catch their flight home, some sadden at the prospect that
tomorrow will bring a rekindled romance with their reality. The smell
of the local cuisine lingers faintly over the smell of strong coffee.
The noise of busy travelers interrupts occasionally by crackling
announcement from the overhead speakers.
My
eyes scour the myriad faces hoping to extract a familiar one. I had
been on the island for a few days and has scarcely had a conversations
which wasn’t about work or to order a meal. Too busy to enjoy the spoils
of the island now I hunger for something familiar, but my search prove
futile. I sit back, through back another sip of the local island beer
and get comfortable as I wait for my flight. “Is any one sitting here?”
and nice sultry voice whispered over my left shoulder.
“OH! No!” I responded as I moved my carry-on so she may sit.
