Between Borders

The delayed flight

Mariana looked at the airport's

electronic board and let out a

resigned sigh: "Delayed." Again.

She had been in transit for over six hours,

her suitcase half-open at her feet and her

heart beating faster than usual.

It wasn't the first time she had traveled

alone, but that endless wait, in a country

she barely knew and surrounded by

voices in languages she barely

understood, made her feel a different,

heavier loneliness.

She sat on one of the blue plastic chairs,

clutched her bag, and tried to distract

herself by watching the people pass by.

Families hugging, couples saying tearful

goodbyes, executives running around with

their cell phones glued to their ears. She,

on the other hand, seemed invisible, lost

in the crowd.