Hope.

She sat on the airport, waiting for him.

It was almost empty, with one or two people appearing every now and then.

“He’s not coming ma’am, the flight couldn’t take off due to bad weather. Maybe tomorrow” The janitor said.

“Maybe tomorrow then.” She said with a dejected face and went away.

“Till when are you going to continue that? It’s been a month” The other janitor asked him.

“I don’t know. Since the day he dies, my words seem to be the only hope keeping her alive” He replied.





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Tagged: airport, Fiction, very short stories