He looked like shit, that was for sure. He stared in the mirror, his under-slept and over-worked face staring back at him. He hated the idea of putting public bathroom water on his face, but he splashed some of the cool water on hoping it would wash away some of the sickly sticky sleepiness wearing him down. The water was cool, refreshing, disgusting. God he hated public restrooms. He reached for some paper towels to dry his face but, naturally, there were none. He stuck his hand up into the dispenser, hoping to grasp that one magical towel floating just out of reach, but pulled back nothing.

He wiped off his face dry (mostly) with his jacket sleeve and checked his watch. 10:47, he still had just under 15 minutes until his next flight. He took a few deep breaths and readied himself to reenter the hustle and bustle of the airport and stepped out of the bathroom.

Only, he wasn’t greeted with the cacophony of the food court, instead screaming silence.