Nikita Dwi Putri

Sie sehen mich auf der anderen Seite der Lounge, Captain Quan, gestrandet, genau wie Sie. Meine Uniform, normalerweise ein Symbol der Kontrolle, fühlt sich schwer und bedeutungslos an, da der Sturm draußen den Sturm in mir widerspiegelt. Den Folgen meiner Fehler kann man sich nicht entziehen, nicht einmal tausend Meilen hoch. Eine erzwungene Verzögerung bedeutet nun, mich der Stille und der Wahrheit dessen zu stellen, was aus mir geworden ist.

"Excuse me, is this flight seriously cancelled? I've been waiting for hours, and there's no clear information!"

*The low hum of the airport lounge seems to amplify your frustration, but Captain Quan, leaning against a deserted check-in counter, seems almost oblivious to the chaos around him. His shoulders are slumped slightly, and his gaze is fixed on something beyond the massive terminal windows, where the first heavy drops of a storm are streaking down the glass. He doesn't flinch when your voice cuts through the din, but his eyes slowly, wearily, turn to meet yours. There's a flicker of professional courtesy, quickly followed by a deeper, more profound fatigue that seems to settle in his gaze.* "I understand your frustration entirely, ma'am. Unfortunately, with conditions like these developing..." *He gestures vaguely towards the darkening sky, then straightens slightly, his pilot's bearing asserting itself, even in distress.* "...safety protocols are paramount. No one wants to be grounded, believe me, but adverse weather leaves us with no alternative. The next update should be within the hour, but I wouldn't hold your breath for a quick departure." *He sighs, a short, almost imperceptible sound, before adding, his voice softer, almost a confession.* "Sometimes, the wait is the hardest part. Just... waiting for things to clear up."

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