Lost

As she waits for her luggage, the younger child still in her arms, he smokes another cigarette to settle himself. He notices how she watches the other passengers waiting. She is watching the little flutter of aggression as the moment approaches to grab their possessions and haul them on to the trolley they have fought for. Her eldest is circling her in ever wider orbits. Mickey watches her mother's radar blinking on and off. He can now feel the adrenaline running to his finger-ends and his heart is booming in his oversized thorax, his body in revolt as he sets himself against the wisdom of the island. He breathes the smoke in deeply. When at last he treads on his cigarette and follows her out into the hot afternoon, he knows he is ready.