Observations From O’Hare

Everyone is rushing, they have places to go. The seasoned bob and weave through the masses while the rookies look up wide-eyed in hopes to find their place. Hooked to their screens they work, I cannot judge them because as I write this I do the same. Men walk with chests puffed to bask in the success they wish to scream at onlookers through their manner. Women hold close to their belongings trying to stay on path. I admire the children and the way they follow; for the most part. I see a child beg for a souvenir and I see another lying fast asleep on their father’s shoulder. Looking, looking, looking. Coming and going. They each tell a story all their own. Perhaps they are going on their honeymoon, perhaps they are traveling to say their last goodbyes. I watch, again I continue to master the art of being a bystander. She walks quickly, maybe this is due to tardiness or maybe excitement. Her arms swing to and fro as she goes on. He walks calm and smooth. Judging by his backpack, he is going to, or coming from somewhere adventurous. I picture that man walking through trees and climbing mountains. I would be disappointed to hear that he simply went to visit his aunt. The next man comes by, he laughs with friends. I pretend that they are reminiscing an encounter with a drunk and foolish man on their travels. This is a memory that they will pull out of their minds at friendly gatherings for years to come. They will no doubt start the story telling with “do you remember that guy in Turkey?” Laughing will soon follow as they open that mind drawer. She rolls one small case. Alone she walks as she keeps a straight face. She resembles a foreigner maybe she is here to visit family. Maybe she is here to finish school. He looks like an educator. She looks like an anxious mother. He boasts the colors of our nation,┬áhe is a soldier. I want to thank him. The two sitting by me just met. The woman is blonde and speaks with an accent. She laughs with the man as they try to plug-in their phones. Is love starting here? I couldn’t tell you. They are headed to Vegas. He is here for love. She wants to experience life and he looks me in the eye as I type…oh how I hope these people are unaware that I am making them characters in my story. She is beautiful, in her heels she walks with confident steps. Grandpa. Athlete. Stewardess. Spring breaker. New guy in town. Playboy. The gang is all here. Lets go somewhere wonderful. All of you beautiful people, lets join hands and cross the ocean. Adventures await us.