10:14 PM, Barcelona El Prat Airport. The baggage carousel had been spinning for 40 minutes. Every other passenger grabbed their bag and left. Mine? Gone.
Sunday night, 10:15 PM. My flight to Hamburg leaves at 6:40 the next morning. I'm staring at an open backpack on the bed, wondering what on earth possessed me. Five days. Three cities. Two client presentations. A dinner with C-level executives. And everything has to fit into a single carry-on....
The baggage carousel at JFK spins. Slower than my heartbeat. The place smells like jet fuel and old plastic. Suitcase after suitcase slides down the ramp. Blue Samsonite. Black Rimowa. A green duffel with stickers. Everyone grabs their bags. Mine doesn't come.