Purvi

She gazes at the camera. The waiting area has been drained of passengers. Hair tucked back, the gate attendant spies it as if it were light. She recalls the couple so recently warming this seat. How they dashed when flight called. She picks up the camera – holiday lights, skylines, shoulders hugged – deletes each shot, one by one. How glorious, she thinks, to be so full of life that you can leave even memory behind.