Chances

There is the family you are born with, the family you choose, and then if you are fortunate enough, there is the family that chooses you. The latter of the three were the ones, that had been pestering Raiden for the last year to come back to his old stomping grounds for a visit. Though Raiden preferred boats and trains for a mode of public transportation. For convenience he booked a flight from Chicago to New Orleans, with a layover in Atlanta.

Trains and ships may have been a older and slower form of travel, Raiden enjoyed the freedoms that came with them. Having a suite to call your own, thus having the choice to socialize or not. The ability to choose who you dined with and who you conversated with. With air travel it was more Russian Roulette. You may have an empty seat or seats next to you, thus being able to do as you choose with your time. You may be seated next or near someone who lacks the basic understanding of personal hygiene; either lack of cleanliness, or the over use of perfume, cologne, or worse, body spray. Then their were those who enjoyed the sound of their own voice, who never stopped talking; all Raiden wanted to do was rip their larynx out to stop their non stop babbling. Or if one was to hit the travel jackpot, one would be sitting next to someone who understood basic hygiene, and the subtle mix of silence and conversation.

Raiden was fortunate to be sitting in first class with the few passengers spread out evenly so each could enjoy their own space and company. He took this time to go over some last minute business on his laptop, before he planned to spend some much needed time with friends and family. The flight was uneventful, and by the time he was closing his laptop, they were descending into Atlanta. As they were taxiing Raiden turned his phone back on, he read the flight alert just as it was coming over the overhead announcements, his connecting flight was delayed by an hour. This really did not bother Raiden as he liked the Atlanta airport. It was large enough in size to have a good selection of restaurants, bars and shops to spend passing the time, there was also ever changing exhibits one could look at. He was no giant, but at six foot three, with an athletic build; first class flying was no coffin, but he was still spending to much time sitting in a flying tin can with wings. The extra time walking around would be nice.

Heat and humidity met Raiden as he stepped off the plane onto the catwalk; the terminal was air conditioned to a tolerable temperature. It was interesting that he could always tell where he was by smell; every place, every person, had a unique smell. (Some just better than others.)

With the extra hour to kill, it gave Raiden time to stretch his legs, and find something to eat. He walked out to the main terminal, he could of found something in the terminal his flight was in, but with the extra time, it was nice to wonder. There were scents from all walks of life and locations in the terminal, most were just muddled together, the scent of the airport, the mix of everything and nothing, manytimes a bit stagnant, with waifs of foods from the different restaurants. Raiden was in the middle of a thought when the familiar sent hit him; he froze in place. A man walking behind Raiden ran into him. Raiden apologized, but stood still frozen in place. It was the smell of a forest meadow in spring at dusk. When the scent of the spring blooms became even sweeter as the temperature drops as the sun sets. It was that smell that set his heart racing, his eyes darkened, he closed his eyes and savored the flood of memories and emotions that washed over him. Raiden smiled. She had come back. Now he just needed to find her.