"Past, Present, Future".
She’d cried in a cubicle in the the ladies
bathroom. A voice belonging to an unseen French airport employee sang out from
the PA system. She listened to the words in French, then listened to the
English translation that followed.
It was time.
She lifted her case onto the sink and peered at
herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy, her make-up smudged and the
bright, harsh lights did her no favours.
She opened the case and drew out a packet of
wet-wipes, using one to remove the black streaks that decorated her cheeks,
then rummaged about for her cosmetics bag…
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