Boarding Pass

The old man plotted himself firmly at the front of what he thought was the queue. The flight wouldn't start boarding for another hour and a half. He checked his brown watch and stretched his shoulders before setting down his suitcase. Over to his left and through the large leaning windows he could see the airstrip. He almost twisted his ankle trying to look behind the desk. He checked his watch once again and muttered fustratedly to himself. His suitcase looked like it had seen some serious travel. The old man's face was cracked and beaded with sweat as he stood stagnant, reluctant to take off his jacket.
As the flight drew nearer more and more travellers arrived behind him. A slight smirk appeared on his face as a member of staff appeared behind the desk. Modern travel had changed so much since he was youthful and tanned like the fellows he met on the bus. But the old man knew he would be the first on the plane that had just docked outside the big window.
"Any speedy boarders? Please come forward" said the worker in strained English.
A swarm of tanned, youthful adults rose from their seats a full ten metres away from the queue and immediately boarded.
Instead of blood boiling in the old man's veins, his hatred toward modern life had now departed.
He felt a pang of youth and accepted his frustrations and let them fly away and within moments he was on his way home.