She was alone tonight—secluded from everyone she felt to be vile, and isolated from the society she so despised. She was absolutely content in her solitude—indeed, she reveled in it.
Sarah felt happy—an almost giddy excitement running from her heart and into her throat. She was at the International Airport of Miami.
She sat atop the roof of her car near the fence of the airfield as she always did. Watching. Listening. Observing.
Night had fallen a number of hours ago, and the darkness of the sky had nearly reached its pinnacle. Even more stunning was the airport at night—
The lights of the concourse, of the parking lots, of the tower and runway all glowed like beacons to guide a lost soul. Perhaps Sarah was that lost soul…
She gazed at the runway in wonder and serenity, all worldly thoughts lost. She watched the multicolored lights that illuminated the runway play across the pavement as they guided in the giant flying machines with patterns of flashing and phasing.
But the gloom persisted and was ever prevalent despite the protest of the airport’s many lights attempting to quell it with a swift, outreaching hush.
She watched as the planes on approach appeared in the distance, slowly changing from a speck of lights to a definable, yet shadowed, figure. She closed her eyes and lay back on her car.
The commercial airliners possess engines that were deafeningly loud. Even at her distance, it was barely lessened. Though there was something quiet in the raucous thunder that echoed and reverberated outward upon the saddle of the wind. Something calm. At least, there was to her.
No one understood Sarah. No one understood why she heard silence where there is only noise, felt peace where there is only strife, felt harmony where there is only chaos. Thus she was alone, both by necessity and by choice in equal portions.
As the planes overhead started and ended their long journeys, a cool wind took hold of her in a cold embrace, her silky smooth skin reacting by attempting to shield her with goose bumps.
The gale blew through the many palm trees surrounding the airport, whispers resonating away from between the fronds.
With the wind came the fragrance of the airport—an unclean, smoky odor of exhaust filling Sarah’s nostrils and infiltrating her mouth.
She could taste it—it was bitterly unnatural, akin to that of burning rubber. It made her scowl uncontrollably every now and then. Still, the merits of this magical place far outweighed the drawbacks.
At least, it did for Sarah.
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