It is not a dream...

My heart is pounding. I can hardly breathe, "I have to make it to the next terminal. I just have to." With out my body's consent, I begin running once more. People are staring. I can hear laughter and see little children pointing. An incoherent voice echoes through out the airport, "Flight...leaving for...will be departing in...." I round the corner. To my relief, the plane has not left yet. He has not left. My eyes eagerly scan the area. Looking for some familiar feature amongst the crowd, I hear his voice. His deep gravelly voice. I turn around, and there he is. I begin to call out his name, but find I have no voice. My lips form the word, yet no sound accompanies it. He looks happy. No, he looks content. His hand firmly holding someone else's hand. I could not quite make out her features nor her voice. They are enthralled with one another. As they walk pass, he suddenly looks up. They stop. His eyes widen, as if he had forgotten something. Then as quickly as the notion came, it passed. Whatever it was, he had no use or care for it now. He hands the tickets to the stewardess and they disappear down the corridor.