Waiting Time.

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Bern's Prose.

Waiting Time.

 

Hour after hour went past, I stifled a few yawns. My face looked as if I was in pain. But I felt no pain, in fact I felt nothing. The tick of an old clock high up on the wall hurt my ears. I had this quick thought should I take off one of my shoes and throw it at this clock that was part of a plan to make me lose my temper. I was not having any part of this plan. I told myself time and time again I am a free individual. I am independent; I want nothing to do with the perpetrators of whatever it was that they had planned for me.

 

Minute after minute slowly ticked by, I am beginning to hate that clock high on the wall. Who put the darned thing so high up? It was impossible to reach it, not even by taking a few steps and jumping, just to stop that stupid ticking that was beginning to make me have suicidal thoughts. Suddenly my thoughts were taken completely away from the clock. A butterfly had flown into the room. No wait, it must have been in the room all of the time. I had not seen it but then that does not matter I now had company. I admit I am fascinated at the colour and movements of this small creature that took my mind away from that dreadful ticking of that old clock high up on he wall. The butterfly is tireless flying from point to point. Then it struck me this lovely creature is looking for a way out of this bare room with just the clock. I felt obliged to help it on its way to freedom Going to the door I opened it wide, the Butterfly did an even better flying dance with its colours flaunting themselves to my eyes. Then off it flew out into the fresh air. I closed the door and waited. Why was I waiting, why stay in this room with the noise of the clock disturbing the few thoughts that were able to penetrate my mind.

 

Time is relentless; it has its own perpetual motion that one cannot see but feel deep down into ones very being. I picked up my brief case. I had, had enough of waiting for a person that I had never seen before, a person that wanted something from me. Opening my brief case I took out the letter that had arrived by Post and reread the writing. My head seemed to explode. The meeting was for tomorrow; I was a day too early for this meeting. I looked up at the clock again and all that I saw was an old clock like a thousand other such clocks. The ticking was only the unwinding of the spring that caused the clock to be continually in motion. It had nothing whatsoever to do my waiting time. I left the room with a small sigh at my foolishness in not reading the letter properly thus wasting so much time. Thank goodness that a small butterfly had helped to break the monotony. Bern

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

For my Mate bishu.some more nonsense for you my Indian Friend

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bishu's picture

Your nonsense hammers more sense into me

.. than "sensible" posts............... ~Ever your well-wisher far away~


©bishu