Chaos in the Airport
 

This is a short work I wrote recently based on my flight back to St. Louis from New York. I'm horrible at coming up with titles, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know.



Of all the higher powers, Chaos is the most unreliable of patrons. I like to thank her for my successes and threaten to worship someone else when things go wrong. She laughs because she knows I don’t worship her to begin with; I just use her as a scapegoat when I’m feeling especially spiritual. Perhaps if I actually did worship her, if I stopped trying to clean my consistently disorganized room or went with the flow instead of attempting to plan out my life, she would grant me more favors. As is, she usually dangles what I want and then either snatches it away or doesn’t, according to her whim.

As I was reading a book about demigods at the time, I was feeling especially spiritual. My first of two flights had been delayed for three hours, undoubtedly caused by me and my karma, as I assume all things are. In my mind, even the weather is affected by my comings and goings, so of course a collision of storms is my fault.

We touched down with 12 minutes remaining until the last flight to St. Louis and disembarked with 3. As I waited on the plane, watching time tick away, I pondered who to pray to for my safe arrival. Being my fallback higher power, Chaos immediately sprang to mind.

‘Oh great mistress of the unexpected,’ I thought, still waiting for the line to move. ‘I wish to make a flight that I am not scheduled to be on, leaving from a location I don’t know, with nearly no time. Only you can make it happen.’ In the book, they always sacrificed something to receive favors from the gods. I tried to think of something apt, but what do you offer a being who takes pride in being enigmatic? ‘I’ll sacrifice something to you later,’ I continued as the line began to move. ‘I promise. Of course, if you fail, the deal’s off.’

I made it to the nearest desk with another St. Louis bound passenger at my side. After calling to confirm that our plane was still there, she told us to write down our names, so she could check us in, and run. Being the first to autograph her paper, I was about a hundred feet ahead of my companion.

As I alternated between jogging and sprinting, my destination on the far end of the terminal, I thought of sacrifices and the dawdling St. Louisan behind me. Perhaps if I sacrificed her. If I made my flight, but she didn’t. Could I do that? And more importantly, is that what Chaos would want?

Once again, I longed for a predictable patron. Christians have it easy. God wants them to put others ahead of themselves; Satan prefers evil intentions. Mold yourself to their expectations, and you’ll be good.

I decided that, should I make the flight, I would tell them that another passenger was just seconds behind me. I liked this plan because its basis required me to make my flight, and should the plane still leave without her, I could feel I’d done everything in my power.

When I arrived, they told me that the plane had just pushed off. Holding pattern and all. Had to leave before the bad weather hit. I could take a flight first thing in the morning though, and they had cots and blankets available for the over-nighters.

I sensed that Chaos was wickedly amused by all of this.

The cots squeaked with every movement and the pillows were ‘cute,’ which is my way of saying too small to be practical. Every two minutes, a woman announced that only select passengers (ones with tickets, nonetheless) and employees were allowed in the terminal. All others were required to leave by midnight. The first time I heard this, the clock read 12:17. At 3:20, my intellect mostly robbed from me by exhaustion, I began arguing with the recording. ‘Anyone who needed to leave by midnight is long gone,’ I started logically enough. ‘And also, I hate you.’

At 4:30, they woke us by jostling the cots, and as I stumbled to my feet, no more rested than I’d been when I lay down, I thought, ‘That’s it. I’m switching to Hermes.’

I got my boarding pass without issue, my plane left on time, and I reached St. Louis before schedule. Hermes served me well despite a lack of sacrifice or prior notice. Either that, or Chaos decided to be generous in her usual unexpected way. It’s even possible that a good flight was Karma’s way of rewarding me for all of my issues the night before.

Some would claim that this was all chance or luck, but I don’t believe in superstitions.

<giggles> Ha, that was quite entertaining. Tight and humorous. The opening sentence was particularly enticing.

I don't actually have any critique to give at the moment. I'm sure that if I read it again, I could find some nit-picky details, like word changes, but overall, I don't think this needs anything.

Nicely done.