Once, actually several times, I was stranded in a place where people came and went. They never stayed for long. They had schedules. They had arriving and departing flights. They traveled with changes of clothing and currency to exchange. They often appeared lost and tired and in need of direction. They passed the time listening to broadcasted announcements as they watched others, ate snacks, gazed at televisions, read or talked idly, and shopped for souvenirs. They lived in worlds apart, spoke words from languages foreign to each other, and yet they shared a common but transitory purpose — to be somewhere else.
Excerpt from Light-Years in the Dark: StoryPoems (see more)