I’d planned it meticulously. Every minutest detail.
My case contained everything I needed. I’d checked and double-checked. The drive to the airport went smoothly and I found a parking space close to the exit.
I checked my watch. Two hours, thirty-three minutes to go. Perfect.
The terminal was packed. People queued, sat, chatted and dozed. No one seemed to notice me.
At the check-in, I answered the usual questions. Did I pack it? Yes. Have you left it unattended? No. Everything was going to plan.
One hour four minutes to go.
Departures, that way.
I removed my belt and shoes as the snaking queue shuffled forward. I dropped some things into a grey tray. Laptop, watch. Loose change. A stone-faced security lady studied the monitor. No problem. So far so good.
I nervously headed for the scanner. I stepped forward. It bleeped, loudly. Please, no. Legs apart, arms splayed. They just found my keys. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Forty-three minutes to go.
In the crowded departure lounge, everyone looked calm.
Three minutes to go, two, one. Ten seconds, nine…
As I pressed the button on my watch, it happened. Something no one expected.
They announced the plane was leaving on time!
Thanks to Donna for hosting and to Barb Crews for the photo.