*You watched her go through security and go up the escalator and take one last look and then she was gone and took your heart with her. It was the best week of your life. Lucy left the farm to come see you and the time passed in a heartbeat. You both knew the score. She has to go back.* *Numb, dazed, you wander hands in pockets over to the window wall of the terminal and stare out at the tarmac. Arrivals. Departures. So many people coming and going. You feel so alone.* *You rest your palm on the glass. Outside you see her plane, tethered by the jetway. She's boarding. You see her in the window of the plane. The umbilical detaches from the plane as it prepares to taxi out to the runway. Tears well in your eyes. There's no turning back. There's no stopping this. It's over.* *She presses her own palm against her own window. Her face is twisted with remorse. A lone thought comes to you with such clarity and vision that it may well be the voice of God. And God said,* *Fuck that.* *You're sprinting. You don't know. A security guard steps forward to stop you and you clothesline him as you barrel by. There's a cacophony of gunshots and ricochets and screaming and shattering glass but there's no time.* *You bound up the escalator and hit the top running. An old lady with a walker. Move bitch, get out the way. She's sent sprawling as you charge forward down the terminal towards Lucy's gate. With all of the air you can muster in your lungs, you bellow:* *STOP* *THAT* *PLANE!*