I put my headphones on, retreating into my own little world amidst hundreds of people. Departure times flash. Lips move, but all I hear is my blaring music. Couples kiss, old ladies pass in wheelchairs, a beautiful Indian woman is braiding her daughter's hair. Remnants of Ikon, Duke Special, drinking with Irishmen and his smell mingle in my mind. I come to, and realize the seat next to me is truly empty. I curse God.