You check the window. Then the clock. Then the door—as if that summons it. Tracking says it’s coming, but it’s really your hope you’re tracking. Waiting becomes a quiet loneliness, knowing what you expect may never arrive.
You check the window. Then the clock. Then the door—as if that summons it. Tracking says it’s coming, but it’s really your hope you’re tracking. Waiting becomes a quiet loneliness, knowing what you expect may never arrive.