That look of anticipation is at its best on faces at the arrivals gate. People expect their folks to walk out, towards them. When they meet a brief spell of forgetfulness covers them – not knowing where to exit from, grab the bags or get the arms; hug, greet, smile, ask or get the luggage trolley; or just walk back to the waiting car and keep all the little talk for later.
If there is a little kid with those arriving, it is pure delight – the kid’s experience versus eager eyes that have stood waiting to get her in their arms.
Couples meeting, spouses walking together, families, solo travelers, those chic, sharply dressed travelers arriving for business in the city… all of them are books to write about. Their stories. Their work. Their ideas. And their state of mind as they arrive.
Tonight on the arrivals gate, I am a djinn which eavesdrop on travelers. Lurking briefly around them, over the shoulders, as they walk. To feel. To gather what arriving must be like, for people.
Contested Realities 