Baggages

He walked the entire length of the depature hall. It was unfortunate that he came in from the wrong end when the ticketing counter was at the other end. Then again it wasn't his choice. Still he had to walk the whole length.

It wasn't really an unfortunate ordeal to have to walk the whole length of 50 over counters. It was at most like 200 metres or so, definitely of no issue to a man of 27 years. A healthy build with only the slightest hint of a hunch; strong strides showed no signs of any tiredness and a stoic face radiated an aura of determination.

But the problem with walking this stretch of endless ticketing counters; flight information screens; the throng of the bustling crowd, was the fact that he was headed for a much longer flight ahead. And that meant he had 2 large suitcases and a huge haversack carried over his shoulders.

How long was the flight? He didn't know. He should find out, afterall he's taking that flight. He wasn't sure where it was flying over, what to keep him occupied on the flight or even the time of the day now and when he arrived. In fact, information was slowly slipping off his mind as he tried to recollect what he had read on his confirmation receipt. He realised, the only one thing that was real at that moment, was the fact that he knew was tired. Very exhausted, lethargic and drained.

Thoughts and memories were slipping out of his head like a leaking tap. Drip...drip... drop by drop, he couldn't recollect his identity number. Drop by drop, he lost recognition of where he had to go or what he had to do. He swore, with whatever remaining mind he had, that sanity was snickering away as it left his head.

No one could see what was going on with the man though. But on closer inspection, he was nothing more than a walking zombie, much like an empty shell; the remnants of a molted insect. Nothing more than an insect.

"Let me help you with that"

And gentle hands reached for his shoulders, easing the haversack of his back. He wasn't shocked nor taken aback. He didn't even look behind. More than willing, he let whoever it was take it. It slid of his back and at that precise moment, he felt that the leaking tap was being shut tight and sanity began to seep back in his mind.

A young lady walked to the front, cradling the haversack in front of her, and peered deep into the man's eyes. As his mind returned to reality, he began to rediscover the meaning of gratitude and indebtness.

"Come, I'll help you to your counter. Where is it at?" she asked, with a lifting lilt and a touch of joy which penetrated deep into the man's heart.

"Right at the far end, counter 58." he replied, and the airport music played on Sinatra's Strangers in the night.