''Here is the air that had brought John to me. The same air was taking him away,'' Nare said to herself and tried to stretch her hand towards the flying airplane in despair. Nare kept on wandering at the airport with her secret thoughts and silent monologue. She no longer believed that her computer would open the door of the cage in which her heart's nightingale was trapped. ''Nare, nobody will offer you his vehicle,'' she kept on speaking to herself. The people were too busy to notice her quenched shape that was wandering around the airport. Suddenly her eyes met an old man. He had his passport and plane ticket in his hand. The man's wrinkled face reminded her of a grey cliff, and the tears from his eyes were likely to be rain drips sticking in the deep wrinkles of his cheeks.