Charlotte

I was in Newark, at least that’s what the brochure in my hands indicated. It felt great to be somewhere new. The uneasy feeling that enveloped me earlier in the day and throughout the ride had dissipated, and I felt a little more like myself again.

I looked around the airport, watching as people rushed to their destinations. Others, not in a hurry, huddled in small groups, discussing in hushed tones, or passed the time reading a book or sipping coffee. In the corner, a child was throwing a tantrum, and I felt a twinge of sympathy for their visibly distressed parent.

Only a little, because well, I don’t...