When I arrived at the airport, it was already packed, and more people were piling in. 

First, I waited two whole hours queuing to hand in my luggage. The wait was bearable, but grueling from the heavy backpack I was wearing, and the additional hand luggage I had to carry around with each step that moved forward. Once I finally reached the till, the proceedings were swift, and I was on my way to security in a breeze.

Security, too, had a grand line snaked in front of it, and another hour of waiting followed, still wearing my heavy backpack, though without the added discomfort of the extra baggages, which should have likely made their way onto the plane by this point. It, too, was bearable, though the extensive standing was enough to have my knee start acting up, and by the time I was packing my electronics back into my bag past security, the discomfort started mounting to agony, and there was nothing I desired more than to simply sit down.

With the fastest pace I could maintain with my aching knee, I dashed over to the gate marked for my flight, craving to place myself down somewhere, even considering momentarily sitting on the ground, though I worried that if I were to place myself so low, with the current state that my legs and knee were in, it was quite possible that I would not find it possible to get up after the fact. It was therefore a seat that I craved to find, and finally reaching my gate through extensive efforts, I also reached dismay.

Had I had a moment to think, I would have had a moment to worry, as the crowds upon crowds of people that brought my pain upon me to begin with, would also serve to deny me any relief from it. 

Each of the many rows of seats in each of the neighbouring gates was filled to the brim with people, and between each of the seats stood lines and queues of patient travellers looking to move on with their journey. My heart sank, and as I scrutinised the rows of my own gate, I saw that much the same applied, and that there were simply too many people to expect a seat to be free on this occasion. Defeated, I chose a spot against the wall that I saw had a railing next to it, and figured that if I had to stand up from the floor, the railing might help me, though it would still be a very demanding task. I ambled up to the chosen spot, took off my backpack and pressed my back against the wall to start sliding down, when, like a mirage in scorching desert heat, I imagined that amidst the swarms of people that packed into and around the rows of seats, there was still one single chair left untaken.

My pain was bringing me to a point of abandoning consideration and I was still not on the ground, so I swept my backpack into my hand and walked over to the spot I thought to be clear.

As I approached, it became increasingly more evident that I had not imagined the empty seat. I pushed a group of people that blocked my way to it, and reaching just before the seat of salvation, I turned to the man sitting next to it.

‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘is this seat taken?’ and I pointed to the empty chair.

The man had been buried in a book, and looked up from it to meet my eyes. He followed my hand to where I was pointing on the chair, and an immediate expression of worry spilled onto his face as he furrowed his brow.

‘This chair?’ he asked.

‘Yes, please,’ I answered, ‘I have a bad knee and my leg really hurts. Can I sit here?’

His worry transformed into confusion.

‘This chair?’ he confirmed, as though it wasn’t the only empty chair in the entire building.

‘Yes,’ I repeated wearily. ‘Please.’

The man looked to his left and to his right, meeting the gazes of people that quickly looked away when he acknowledged them. Seemingly searching for anyone to assist him, he found help from no-one, and directed his searching eyes back in my general direction, though not meeting my own.

‘Nobody is sitting in this chair,’ he stated hurriedly, in a matter-of-fact tone, and turned all his attention away from me and returned to reading his book.

As though an immediate anaesthetic had been applied to my entire body, I smiled and I thanked the indifferent soul, as I moved to throw myself onto the empty space like a tired labourer throws himself onto an empty bed.

But just as I was about to move into my destined place, a piercing look from the edge of my vision brought me to a halt.

I looked over, and saw the eyes belonged to a woman. She was staring me deeply into my eyes, attempting by some magic to keep me in place, and to some extent succeeding. She furrowed her brow, much like the man, and her lips were contorted in a paroxysm of disgust.

‘That’s the chair,’ she said, with words so sharp they ought to have cut off my legs and stopped me from moving ever again.

It was my time now to parry her enigmatic warning with my own expression of confusion, but instead she did not say a word further, snapping her head away from me as quickly as she could and attempting to treat me as if I had never existed to begin with.

I chose to dismiss her, too, and take a better look at the seat.

It was a metal seat, curved and ergonomic, with padding placed upon it made of fake black leather. It looked perfectly spotless, not a mark of dirt anywhere on neither the metal nor the leather surface, as a quick but astute scrutiny assured me. What, then, which the stricken woman was talking about eluded me, and not being able to stand the pressure any longer, I spun myself right around and threw myself onto the empty chair.

The comfort I felt sitting down brought to me a tsunami of relief that shot through every muscle in my body, not only my knee. It was momentarily euphoric, knowing just how long I had to wait for such a basic commodity: but I knew that the wait was all worth it, and that I could now begin trying my best to enjoy the remainder of my lengthy journey.

But my moment of ephemeral bliss was also momentarily blinding. When I paid attention back to the crowd around me, I saw all their eyes piercing me like arrows. 

It was a sight so horridly jarring, that I immediately tensed from the induced anxiety, and nearly shot back up from my seat, but my knee still dissuaded such drastic movements.

The faces of those staring at me were variously contorted, and all seemed disturbed by the sight they were beholding before them. A mixture of disgust and resentment twisted each of their mouths, and their eyes shined with ghostly detachment from the reality they were participating in. Some shifted slightly away from me, and others tried to bring up their bags and luggage closer to their bodies, as if subconsciously shielding themselves from an oncoming attack. I seemed to act as a repulsive particle in the wave of bodies, as each around me tried to move minutely away, creating a small area around me that was clear of any people in the otherwise compactly occupied area.

The scenes unfolding in response to my sitting down perplexed me beyond comfort. I could not understand why my seating in this particular chair had elicited such displeasure in those around me. Despite my initial confirmation of the chair’s cleanliness, I no longer felt certain it was entirely safe to sit on. I slowly arose back onto my aching knee, sending a sharp bolt of pain all over my body. I gritted my teeth and gave the chair a more careful inspection.

But no matter how I looked at it, I could see nothing wrong with it.

‘Excuse me,’ I attempted to attract the woman’s attention, ‘what is wrong with this chair? why are you so upset with my sitting in it?’

But the woman refused to give me any more attention, and instead appeared to become more sickly when I spoke to her. In a matter of seconds, I saw her insides contract and her chest move uncomfortably, and eventually she leapt up from her seat and sprinted to the bathroom, the vomit already spilling out of her lips. Before I had time to look back at her chair, another traveller had already hastened to take her place, and was sitting in the post she had just abandoned.

A loud bell rang across the speakers of the airport.

‘Passengers of flight — at gate —, your flight is ready for boarding. Priority passengers, please take your place in the queue.’

I had a priority ticket, so I trudged over to the designated queueing area, dreading another painful wait with my crumbling knee.

But for the first time that day, no queue was to meet me. 

I was the only passenger in the priority queue, and I boarded the plane in an orderly manner.

22.VII.23