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Third Person
Rain exhales lowly counting the number of people ahead of her in the immigration line. The international arrivals had amassed a lot of people with her being among them. The pace of her queue was taking longer and Rain opts to thrumming her feet as some sort of a pastime even though the black wedged ankle boots mercilessly assaulted her feet. She’d been standing for almost an hour, the pace snail like.
When Rain’s turn finally arrives she eagerly approaches the counter, smiling at the uniformed man. The waiting was done and Rain hands over her documents. The nervousness lessens as she sees the man nodding in agreem
