And then the elevator goes up... ( Joana)

                Hmm. I love this Mango pie. It’s so delicious! Almost reminds me of home. Auntie Anna makes the best Brazilian food outside of Brazil ever! Too bad, I’m leaving. I’m not even sure if I want to go back to Bahia. Fernando will be waiting. I hope he won’t bring roses again.

                I could still go back, back to Anna… stay here, but Brazil means home. And Germany, ohh… I don’t know. Ahh, yet another elevator. There are too many. How I hate them. Too tight, too stinky and I already feel exhausted. Okay. Maybe they should build bigger ones, this is an airport after all! There are three of us and I already feel trapped.

                Okay. Is it only my imagination, or did this elevator just stop?And what was that noise? Ahh, we are not stuck, this can’t be. Hey, guy over there, looking like he would know how to handle this…do something? Why won’t he do something?

                I should relax. No, forget about it! We are trapped! I am pregnant! I need to go to the bathroom! My plane is leaving in thirty minutes! “Let me out, let me OUT!”, I scream, trying to fight back my tears.

                There, there is a button with a bell on. Let’s push it. Nothing. I can’t believe this. Hello? Hello? Oh well. My legs hurt. I can’t stand anymore. I might as well sit down.

                 I don’t even have a tissue. How awful! Oh, the girl from the left corner offers me one. How nice. Now the tall man with the RayBan glasses comes over to me. “It will all be fine”, he says. Oh really? As if he had any idea what is going on. I am not even showing!

                10.30pm. Fifteen minutes left until departure.’Suppose I won’t make it. Oh, well. I don’t want to be stuck! My plane! My PLANE! It’s hopeless. How can they stay so calm? It’s too tight, too stinky..too…Argh! Ouch, that hurt. Banging my fist against the buttons doesn’t help either.

                Dude, could you take your hand off my back? “Excuse me, but I am pregnant. I cry a lot. I am from Brazil” I hear myself sobbing. “I’m meant to go to my boy…friend, well, technically I don’t want to.” The girl looks at me in shock, while the man keeps rubbing my back.

                “I wish I loved Fernando, but I don’t know. I don’t. And what’s going to happen to the child if it has no parents that love each other?” I don’t even know why I am asking this. It’s none of their business. “My father was always gone”, the girl says. Oh, she looks sad. I know, girl, I know. I am meant to love Fernando, but I don’t. It’s just as tragic for me, believe it or not.

                 I wish, I wish , I wish I could love him. Maybe I am unable to love. Maybe the flattering comments and all the gifts don’t touch me anymore, because I heard them too often. What is love anyway? And what about my baby, will it love me? Will I ever come out of this elevator again?

                “Joana”, the man says, and then the elevator goes up. The door seems to be open. I see a group of people coming towards us. Maybe they will also get some time to think. Maybe they also have families? Maybe they know what love is.