I’m anxious the whole flight to Texas. I know where they are. I know that they are safe, and that’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane right now. I would get to them no matter what. I would get to them, and I would get them back.
The plane lands, and I sprint out of the airport. I have people looking at me everywhere, and I’m sure any other day I’d stare too if I saw someone sprinting like they were panicked from an airport. On that thought, I hope no one calls the police. I don’t want to be arrested for starting some sort of mass panic after all. I burst through the doors into the drive/drop off area in front of the doors, and I spot a man grabbing his bags from the back of the cab but seeing as it’s the only one currently here right now, I jump in it anyway. Bags that reminds me, I
