airport - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Gina described the airport as like a sea of faces moving in an unseen current, flowing like water to their destinations like a wide river down the aisles. Small groups would sometimes stop and cause a small eddy, but the others would flow around the outside and continue on their way.
There were plasma screens of arrival and departure times on the wall of the airport. People were lined up at the check in desk with suitcases and baggage. There was a sculpture of a whale with water cascading from it's mouth and flowing down it's tail flukes. In the background soft classical music played. In the arrivals lounge there was a curious mixture of bored and excited people. Some looked like they were waiting for a bus, others like they were children waiting for Santa himself. Some lounged on the low comfy chairs and others bounced on their toes.
Leaving late for a holiday at two in the morning would bring any happy person into a sort of depressed state. The flight was delayed four times already. A devastating record just as irritating as the hurricane roaring outside. Among the sea of irritated and annoyed faces, there were old and young all who whined with an equal premise of complaints. The large screen that often displayed the departure times was over 5 hours late. Much like everyone else I wanted the storm to end, but I didn't complain about it. Unlike the masses, I knew the workers could do nothing about the heavy rain and winds that could pull any inpatient plane out of the sky.
It was midday, the worst time to arrive. As they came out of the plane, Alex felt the heat reflecting off the tarmac. It was hard to breathe. The air was heavy and smelled of diesel. He was sweating even before he had reached the bottom of the steps, and the arrivals lounge offered no relief. The air-conditioning was broken and Alex soon found himself trapped in a confined space with two or three hundred people and no windows. The terminal building was more like a large shed than a modern airport building. The walls were a drab, olive green, decorated with faded posters of the island and looked twenty years out of date...
The airport was in the desert and they put the runway and helipad in a different place each year on the outskirts of the ram-shackle town. The terminal building was a converted barn, the box office was an old hot dog truck and the gate was a crudely made five bar with no fence on either side. You could only land on it in the dry season, so that's when they held the concert. And for that glorious week the sleepy dustbowl town was like a non-stop festival, it was like an overfull bowl of popcorn with people spilling from every corner of town, grinning, drinking, smoking pot.
The airport had been derelict since the uprising. The mall area had been looted a decade ago and the once automatic doors lay permanently open. People used to come here to sleep in the early days, snoozing on the uncomfortable chairs or lying on the floors like corpses. They assumed that the government would get control again soon and they could just wait in the airport to be fed. Meanwhile they surged into the food court and ate like locust until their bellies were full and the kitchen's empty. All that was left of them now was their detritus, the litter that blew like tumbleweed in the gusts from the open doors.
The airport looked more like a shopping mall than anything Nathan had expected. The tiles under foot gleamed white and everywhere were people milling around. There were two glass elevators leading to an upper floor which had the appearance of a food mall. And in the middle of several large open areas were blue fabric covered seats. The air was cool and only the faint aroma coming down from the food area gave it any scent. Some stairs lead up to a viewing deck where eager children watched the airplanes take off and land. There were mounted telescopes for them to look through and the back wall was one large window. Behind the telescopes was a scale model of the airport with the runways marked on it.
Airports are the same all over the world, but the one at Murmansk had managed to achieve a new level of ugliness. It had been built in the middle of nowhere, so that, from the air, it looked almost like a mistake. At ground level it offered just one low-rise terminal built out of glass and tired, gray concrete, with eight white letters mounted on the roof.
My stomach was churning up and down it was so terrifying thinking about being 2000kilometers off the ground there were so many things that could go wrong as it was 1stairplane. Nonetheless, I was very eager as me and my family are going to go to the most tranquil place on earth, Summerset Island there were so many tropical things there like the majestic blue ocean and the radiant fruits that would grow on the vivid trees. It was the one place that I had been dreaming about my whole life, and know it’s all finally coming true.
I was told to sit in Row 15 chair 24 with my parents either side of me. I knew I wasn’t the only person scared on this airplane as my mum was pacing up and down when we were on the airport and she is clenching onto my hand with all her life, even t
Miles had been legally blind since birth. So his description of the airport was one of a cacophony of noises. He heard the voices of the young and old, their tones either subdued with the anticipation of separation or excited to be leaving on vacation. He heard the suitcases being dropped onto the conveyer belts and the cheery welcomes of the check-in assistants. And in the background he heard the seasonal music and the tinkle of sculptured water features. And all of these ambient sounds were punctuated periodically by the sound of a aeroplane taking off or landing on the tarmac runway outside.
Who knew my journey would end soon? I walked with my luggage checking my passport once or twice. The steps that I took forward on those sleek silvery tiles of the airport terminal were trembling but I knew I had to move forward, leaving behind all the memories that had been attached to me - since my childhood. All those around had their inner emotion portrayed on there faces ...