The Airport buzzed around the suitcase, alight with actiivity. Pepole walking to and fro. Happy, sad or apathetic travelers with or without a destination in mind. Airplanes coming and going.

  Amongst all of this the suitcase sat, clad in black leather with a teak handle. Perhaps a taxman forgot it or did a salesman run off without her deals? Noone seems to know, notice or care. They should.

  Night turns to day. Time ticks on as does the suitcase. A child cries, hungry. Her parents flight got delayed and she hasn't eaten breakfast. A buisnessman rushes nearby he just got a promotion and his smile lights up the whole area like a sun.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Pepole come and go. Near a wall the suitcase overlook the hordes of humans, this is their last day on earth. The watch in the suitcase reaches 12. A spark reaches across the gap. A flame reaches the material.

  Silence.

  Chaos.

  Tragedy.

  Just another headline.

  The world goes on.