60 Seconds (a non poem)

we're all converged at the waiting lounge
waiting to board the ferry
a little girl throws a tantrum
she wants the straw bag she saw just before check in
that her father and time didn't allow
she sits at the edge of the row
one seat separates her and her mom
she places her body 45 degrees away
looking the other way
but she keeps an eye on her parents
from the corner of her left eye
she looks
an oddly familiar sound trails from the immigration room
i try to place it
and immediately smile
when i recall how a typewriter sounds
fresh words punched on a fresh white sheet
the brand new lines scent the room
with nostalgia
and new beginnings
all at once
there are accents too
from all over
that drown into the background
from where i am
i taste the ocean breeze
with each baby breath
comforted by the cleansing
and the lavender lotion
sunk deep in the pores of my skin
the overhead speaker chimes
and a flow of bahasa erases the moment
with instructions to board
i must now go