The elegant woman in the sun hat with an ice-cold demeanor.
The awkward teenage boys with their vacation-bought t-shirts.
The Canadian family with no less than 5 Canadian flags at their reach – bag tags, shirts, etc.

This is Split Airport.

Holding zone for  all the sunseekers, the escapists-for-a-week, the tired parents hoping for a change.
Here in the departures terminal we all wait.
Most silently mourn the end of their ‘freedom’, returning home with memories, sunburns, and a thinner wallet.
All of the weeks jovial activities accounted for in a vocal exhale and a click of the seatbelt that we’ve all been instructed how to use too many times.

These airplanes are transitions from one state of mind to another: Freedom, Entrapment, Freedom, Entrapment, Freedom.