Airports are strange places, I think as I stand in front of the gate waiting for my father to arrive. His flight is not the only flight to arrive this early afternoon, and a flood of people is coming through the gate. Faces, strange faces, blur into each other, all looking the same. They are special to someone, I’m sure, each of them possessing the ability to light up the face of a few loved ones. But they are strangers to me, and they are annoying because the human clutter they create interferes with my ability to locate my father in the crowd.
Twenty minutes pass by. The little airport screens tell me that his plane has already landed. Where is he? I squint, cursing my useless pair of near-sighted eyes, that probably require a new contacts prescription yet again. What if I can’t locate him? What if his face blends into everyone else’s and they all look the same, what if I never find him?
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