She tugged at his jacket. ‘Put it on later.’
He snatched his bag from the tray and shuffled after her, clutching his belt.
A tinny voice announced: ‘Final call for flight ...’
‘We’re going to miss it!’
‘We’ve got fifteen minutes.’
‘That’s when it departs, not when they close the doors. Hurry up!’
They half-walked, half-jogged through a shopping mall masquerading as a departure lounge, reaching a corridor that seemed to go on for forever.
He slowed to a walk, panting. ‘Forget it, Sandy. We’re not going to make it.’
They started jogging again.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words