22 minutes

23 minutes until boarding and the line in front of the gate snakes its way around pillars, chairs and the brightly lit LCD screens where advertisers screen for the attention of the jaded.  It's hard to see each individual face as it all blurs into one clump of different colours, sizes and moods.  The line takes on a life of its own as weary anticipation takes hold. 

Feet rock from side to side.  Heels clip the floor quietly.  You can feel the anxiety.  You can taste the desperation.  The only thing flying around in the brain is the desire to climb into the cramped cubicle in the metal box with wings.

While weary, you can also see hope.  A vision of a new place or a return home.  The chance to start over, to be someone new.  That metal box gives the line that chance.  The snake longs for the new beginning.  It waits patiently, for the glass doors to open and wave in the future.

It's 22 minutes until boarding.