Those who don't feel at home never unpack their bags, no matter how long they call a city their base. We first met at an airport, that's where I first saw your face, but that didn't matter anymore because now you're everywhere.
My favourite place in the world is Grand Central Station, New York, simply because it reminds me of an airport and that reminds me of you. It's filled up with all the emotions of the Earth and all the people in it. Over a million of us pass through there each day but the sounds bouncing off the walls are not of noise, it's not even loud in there. It's something else entirely.
The hush of shuffling feet, reluctant to take a journey. The sound of lips brushing together as two lovers say goodbye. The sound of a long embrace between an old pair, afraid it may be their last.
A kiss on the forehead, his gentle hands cupping her face. The camera snaps of visitors desperate to catch a moment.
A glance at a stranger, one second to fall in love.
The sound of wonder in its windows, ceiling and floor. Echos down the corridors. Minds thinking, will she still be waiting when I return? Should I have held his hand for longer? If I wasn't in a rush would she let me have her number? Would I even ask?
Is this our last moment?
Soft sobbing, the excitement of going home, a fear that things have changed.
What do emotions sound like?
He puts his hands in his pockets, she fixes her handbag to her shoulder. Her hair brushing her neck as she turns back for one last glance. But his head is down.
They part without saying a word.
The click of her heels in the distance, a deafening reminder of her beauty in such a quiet place.
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