None of this made any sense to Florence when she recalled the events that Florence wasn’t supposed to be at Terminal 1 that day.  She had nowhere to go except back to her apartment.

While everyone was at the park on Saturdays, she was at the airport.  Her butterscotch yellow overnight case contained her lunch and an overdue copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull.  And ju

When she finished her ticket inquiry, she'd stroll through the terminal taking in the scene of arriving and departing travelers, waiting friends and family, eager-to-please drivers, pilots and stewardesses in tow.

After a few pages into the book she noticed a small shoulder bag on the seat next to hers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, unfortunately TWA flight 241 to St Louis has been canceled.”

This was going to be her first flight.  And now it’s canceled.  Florence sat there motionless, shocked and frustrated.

She turned back to the bag.  For some reason, it seemed to distract her and ease her anger and frustration.

“Whose bag is that?  Should I find its owner?Aren’t they looking for it?” These questions and more flooded her thoughts.

Suddenly a little boy walked up and opened the it.  His eyes widened and a big grin came over his face as he pulled out a shiny metallic rectangle.  It was covered in tan leather on its top and bottom.  He then unfolded it and revealed a camera.  Yes it was just like the one she saw on the television. 

A woman came from out of nowhere, ran up to the boy and took the camera away from him.  “Now Dennis what did I tell you about touching other people’s things!” Her face grew red as she looked up at Florence.  “I’m so sorry.  He doesn’t usually act like this.”  She held out the camera and waited for Florence to take it.

Florence paused and wondered if her face was just as red as this woman’s.  She looked around.  No one was paying them any attention.  So she reached out awkwardly and took the camera.

“Take my picture! Take my picture. Take my picture.” Dennis chanted the words while clapping his hands and jumping up and down.

“Now Dennis you leave this young lady alone.”  The boy’s mother pulled him by the arm and walked off.

The mechanical gears whirred as the camera ejected a square plastic card.  The boy instantly grabbed the photo and put it in his pocket. My dad says you have to wait 10 minutes before you can look at it.

Florence got up and walked over to the large window overlooking the planes. She pointed the camera at the tail fan and took another photo. But this time nothing came out. Period.

You have to put more film in. Set the boy.

Florence looked through the bag and found another pack of film. However, she realized she had to do something about her flight. She gathered up her thing and was on her way to the ticket counter when she heard the little boy.

This isn’t my photo. Where is my photo?

The boy was handing her the photo in frustration like it was a toy. He didn’t want to play with. Florence stared at it. That’s odd she said to herself.

My dad says this happens when the camera jammed. Said the little boy.

Florence ignored him.