To the Attic!
folder
Original - Misc › -Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
5,016
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
5,016
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
To the Attic!
Marie sat in a crowded airport waiting room, left hand clutching a slip of paper bearing an arrival time and flight number, right hand tangled in her curly, shoulder-length black hair as she glared up at a wall-mounted television. She cursed the excitement and impatience that had led her to drive to the airport three hours before her guest was to arrive, but acknowledged to herself that it was no use. Either she spent the day with the insides of her knees against a metal folding chair in the waiting room, the faint clank of a conveyor belt in the background and the television set blaring, or pacing around her small apartment, desperate to make the time pass more quickly, any activity she attempted to pick up proving incapable of truly distracting her. Her mind was active to an almost nauseating degree. Somehow it reminded her of attempting to teach her sister's oldest son to drive, lurching sickeningly from side to side at high speeds during a trial run to see how skilled he was before any formal instruction. Put off, she had snapped at him to stop and returned the radio to a reasonable volume. She had wanted to slap him then, but resolutely squeezed her sides with her rigid upper arms, forearms trembling against her thighs. The rest of the lesson, though, had gone much more smoothly.
She sighed, clicking her fingernails against the edge of the folding chair. Everything was prepared, she reassured herself. The apartment was spotless, although even at its messiest it was almost disturbingly bare. Glancing at her watch, she noted that she had been there for over two hours, leaving only about half an hour more of waiting for the man's plane to arrive. As the program on the television set went to commercial, she stood, slinging a small, squarish grey bag over her shoulder, and headed to a bathroom she had noted the location of on her way into the airport. Once she was inside a stall, she set the bag on top of the toilet tank and carefully unzipped it. Florescent lights flickering overhead and lending a hallucinatory quality to the scene, she examined the bag's contents: several thin metal rods in a plastic case and a package of wide black zip ties, unopened.
She grinned as she closed the bag, returned it to her left shoulder and walked back to the waiting room. The airport alternated between very brightly lit and shadowy to the point that it was difficult to make out the writing on the posters lining the walls. Her pupils alternately dilated and returned to normal, giving Marie the feeling that she was walking through a tunnel that occasionally broke through to the ground above. Pleasantly disoriented, she regained her seat in the waiting room. Fifteen minutes left, she noted. She passed the time shakily reading through a list she had dug out of her pocket and re-reading the slip of paper with the arrival time and flight number she had hastily written on it just the night before. Then, at last, it was time to walk to the gates.
She sighed, clicking her fingernails against the edge of the folding chair. Everything was prepared, she reassured herself. The apartment was spotless, although even at its messiest it was almost disturbingly bare. Glancing at her watch, she noted that she had been there for over two hours, leaving only about half an hour more of waiting for the man's plane to arrive. As the program on the television set went to commercial, she stood, slinging a small, squarish grey bag over her shoulder, and headed to a bathroom she had noted the location of on her way into the airport. Once she was inside a stall, she set the bag on top of the toilet tank and carefully unzipped it. Florescent lights flickering overhead and lending a hallucinatory quality to the scene, she examined the bag's contents: several thin metal rods in a plastic case and a package of wide black zip ties, unopened.
She grinned as she closed the bag, returned it to her left shoulder and walked back to the waiting room. The airport alternated between very brightly lit and shadowy to the point that it was difficult to make out the writing on the posters lining the walls. Her pupils alternately dilated and returned to normal, giving Marie the feeling that she was walking through a tunnel that occasionally broke through to the ground above. Pleasantly disoriented, she regained her seat in the waiting room. Fifteen minutes left, she noted. She passed the time shakily reading through a list she had dug out of her pocket and re-reading the slip of paper with the arrival time and flight number she had hastily written on it just the night before. Then, at last, it was time to walk to the gates.