Suitcases. One does not give them much thought – at least I never had. Their sole purpose is to transport it’s masters belongings. Period. Nothing more.
And despite coming in a variety of shapes and sizes, colors and materials it holds no value in itself, aside from the contents within.
I spent a good portion of the afternoon aiding my mother in packing their belongings into these very things. I also spent a good few moments gazing admirably at the humble suitcase.
The thing is a suitcase is a promise of adventure, the promise of something new or reacquainting with something lost. Provided you have sufficient funds that is. And although not all journeys result in happy vacations it’s still a journey to another place regardless of distance. It’s anywhere but here.
Much like airports. I’ve always been enamored by it’s stark white clad walls and headache inducing noise mainly for the people busying themselves within these very walls. Tear streaked faces and sad farewells accompanied by immense joy and excitement for what lies beyond the terminal entry. Bustling with impending adventures, all walks of life coming together as one to be escorted upon a giant flying machine that will transport them somewhere else.
Perhaps it’s just that wanderlust bug from within talking or maybe I’m becoming clinically insane in this obsession and yearning for travel, either way I wish, God how I wish it were me packing my belongings up for the whirlwind adventure of a lifetime!
I wish I was stepping out of a cab, suitcase in tow expectantly excited for the long and frankly boring plane ride ahead.