He grabbed the handle of his suitcase, the wheels clicking against the linoleum. The doors hissed open, inviting him into the humid afternoon.
He had landed. Now, he just had to figure out how to stay.
The air in the terminal didn’t smell like a new beginning; it smelled like floor wax and expensive espresso.
Across the barrier, a young woman burst through the doors, dropping her bags to wrap her arms around an elderly man. They didn't say anything; the arrival was the conversation. Further down, a businessman checked his watch, already looking past the exit toward his next meeting, his arrival merely a logistical hurdle.