Teach Us to Number Our Days
The young man paused and glanced at his watch as he entered the terminal, 16:59. His face was writ with distress. He looked to the girl at his side. Her flowery dress seemed to conflict with the whole of the chaotic grey of the terminal. He gripped her hand as their eyes met and a slight smile formed across his face, then quickly faded, and something between pain and sorrow replaced it. The girl’s deep blue eyes were red and watery shining against her olive complexion and short dark hair.