Airport

An elderly couple sits at a food court table in the middle of the airport. Impatient people drag their luggage to their respective concourses, grumbling at delays, but the pair seems lost in their own world. They sit across from each other, holding hands over the scratched plastic table. Heads bowed, they mouth words in unison.

Oddly enough, their prayer isn't cheapened by the unopened styrofoam packages of tasteless food on their table. In a world of chaos, they seem to have found what matters. I watch them as I eat, and catch my mother watching them too. When she thinks I'm not looking, she starts to cry.