by Darmon Richter

Created on: January 29, 2011   Last Updated: January 31, 2011

Sat across from her in this greasy airport canteen, I reach over the table to take her pale hand in mine. Our fingers touch, but she pulls back, folding her hands across her lap. I try to make eye contact, but again she looks away.

I want to say something, but the words just won’t come.
            “How’s your coffee?” I ask instead, and she just says,

            “Fine”.

We sit in silence for a few moments more, watching the bustling crowd. It appears as though sped up; bodies move and swarm chaotically about us, their voices blending into a babble of nonsense. At the centre of the storm, we sit across from one another in a pool of silence. While the world speeds on ahead, here we wallow, our anchor dropped heavily in the past.
            “I should be going,” she says at last.
            “Alright,” I say slowly. There are a thousand other things I want to say, things I should say, but somehow I can’t put them into words. I stand up, and try to help her with her luggage.
            “You want me to…”
            “No,” she interrupts. “I can manage.”

Feeling useless, I stand back and watch as she heaves the satchel onto her back.
            “Goodbye,” she says simply, and like a dumb ape I mimic her.
            “Goodbye,” I repeat. There are so many other words in my mind; and this is the one word that I didn’t ever want to say to her.

She’s passed the gate, and as she disappears from sight, it dawns on me. Just one word. It doesn’t fix the past, but it would have been a good start. Just that one word… ‘sorry’. But now I’ve missed my last chance.

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