Baggage Reclaim

The announcement repeatedly told passengers to keep away from the conveyor belts but that didn't stop the hundreds of package holiday kids from touching it, putting their feet on it, or even sitting on the black, rubber slats that trundled around.  Each time another grubby paw touched the belt the machinery ground to a halt, delaying the luggage a little bit longer. I'd just got off the noisiest flight ever, the roar of the engines was drowned out by the screaming of kids and the raised voices of frustrated parents who were already regretting two weeks in the sun. I could feel my blood coming to a gentle simmer, a rolling boil. I wasn't used to this, I was a seasoned traveller yes, but I normally took scheduled flights to big cities not summer-only flights to holiday destinations; businessmen rarely sit on the baggage reclaim belt.

But what really got me was that the parents didn't seem to mind that their kids were playing with the machine. So many moving parts, so many potential death traps but the kids played on them like they were swings and slides down the park. Maybe the grown ups were hoping the belt would claim one of their offspring, leading to a huge compensation claim; one less kid and half a million quid in the bank would seem like a good deal to me. 
My eyes were rolling so much they must have looked like a fruit machine, another kid was now standing on the bloody belt but instead of chastising him, the parents were laughing and scrambling for their phones to take photos with. The announcement came again, and the machine shuddered to its predictable halt. I sighed; I wished there was a wind turbine in front of me because I could have powered a small city with my exhalations. 
Eventually the machine started up again and the delivery of bags resumed and my bag poked it's head nervously through the black rubber slatted curtains. Then there it was, the inevitable scream, the cry for help, the squeal of panic, but the scream was not coming from a child or a parent but from my own throat, somehow as I had bent down for one of my bags, my tie had got tangled in the machinery and now I was being dragged around the airport by my throat.