Waiting list

“You’re on the waiting list,” I heard from the other side of the check-in counter. “What the hell?” I thought, I bought the ticket online and it wasn’t a discounted ticket. “What’s going on here?” So many things had gone wrong recently that I wasn’t entirely surprised. I walked through the gleaming corridors of Vienna Airport and entered the transit hall. I showed my ticket to a flight attendant who asked me to wait. I’m sitting in the transit hall, waiting. More and more people come in. It feels like time has stopped and the NOW has expanded into the past and the future, washing away memories and plans. It feels like I am always in transition and always on the move, waiting here and there to get somewhere without ever arriving at my destination. Always on a waiting list.