There are many people waiting, like me, at the airport. Who landed, took the luggage out the door of the arrivals and looks around, hoping to glimpse the person to meet. Some just meet this person, knowing that others look no one came, and still others are happy to an unexpected presence. A brunette, beautiful, long hair and smooth, a pair of jeans and boots worn with elegance, sporting a blue sweater, is leaning against the railing that is in front of the sliding glass door from which travelers leave. He folded his arms, as if to ward off a cold that is not there. Waiting for someone to take the heat. His eyes riveted on that port, from which comes a very tall boy, who was also very nice with a trench coat beige, a soft leather briefcase, jacket and tie, but gait sports. A pair of Clarks. He sees it before passing the door, immediately drop the case, but does so with an extraordinary self-control. He opens his arms and throws her there, but quietly, as if to understand that it is a scene that happened repeatedly, that this moment should be lived plan. He caresses and kisses her sobriety, whispers something, she is abandoned. He takes over the case, embrace it and no longer speaks. While the two are moving away from there, I watched them I thought that selfishness in the people there, I wanted to be the driver of their car, an ornament of their house, that my loneliness was heavy, I wanted to take home a bit 'of the atmosphere they created in the midst of so many people who snorted, a sudden light. Even I was there that night.
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