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The Flight
The Flight
By: Sofia Pons and Veronica Lucia Chavez
It was an early Thursday morning in John F. Kennedy International Airport. My watch packed in the luggage and my phone’s battery had died. I was pretty sure I was running late and I was going to miss my flight. My ticket stuck in my passport in my left hand and the dead phone in my right. I was running and running, but with no direction. I got in a shuttle and hoped that I was going the right way.
The shuttle started moving and I took a moment to catch my breath. I wiped the tear of sweat that was about to start dripping down my forehead and took out my ticket to try to read it. I am not sure if I was about to have a heart attack or something, but I could not read the ticket. I had some kind of blurred vision and I just could not find the gate where I was supposed to go. I let out a sort of desperation sigh.
“Let me take a look at that”, I heard from behind my shoulder. It was like a guardian angel sent to guide me to the right path, well it really was just an old man.
I handed over my ticket to him and let him read it. “You are going the wrong way, at the next stop grab the shuttle across from this and head over to terminal B, your gate will be there.”
I hugged him and got of the shuttle. I walked over to the other shuttle and got on. I arrived at the terminal B in no time and saw my gate. I ran to the counter just about when the stewardess starts and saying an announcement. “Ladies and gentleman, the flight to LAX has been delayed three hours, sorry for your inconvenience.”
