She was waiting in the airport terminal for more
than an hour now. His flight had been delayed, the board says. She got another
two more hours to kill alone. She felt angry. Three hours out of the 48 hours
they get. Time races as if on a F1 race when they're together. They barely meet
and then it's time to part.
They have been doing this for 15 years now. This
parallel life of 72hours.
Both of them have their own set of Giggles, smiles,
tears and sorrows at the opposite side of the globe from each other. Both of
them have made their own mark in their place. Both of them have their own set
of ideologies and opinions. Both of them doesn’t even exist in each other’s
life until when a year starts crawling to its' last month, then they collide, with so much of power. As if
their identities are invisible, their thoughts don’t float, their lives don’t breathe.
They meet for 72 hours, stealing away from the world for themselves.
They meet for 72 hours, stealing away from the world for themselves.
I’m participating in the Write Tribe Problogger October 2017 Blogging Challenge through October.
Today’s Prompt – “Terminal”
