1785. Waiting. Knitting.

Bethany and Lawrence stayed at home to avoid catching (or spreading) the rampant virus. They had enough to survive on. Would one of them suddenly take ill? Had they already picked up the virus and as yet it hadn’t showed? Were they in fact virus-free? Was a virus-filled droplet sitting on the store-bought egg carton awaiting a victim?

The fear was in the waiting. Waiting. Waiting for something that may or may not happen.

And then Lawrence felt a slight tickle in the throat. Was this the virus? Would it get worse?

Bethany began to knit her fourth scarf in a week. She couldn’t concentrate for long enough to knit anything more complicated.

The wait continued.

1764. Giggling Gerties

The concept of spending a considerable amount of time with these people was driving Barney batty. They were a giggling bunch of pre-adolescent zombies. Giggle giggle giggle. Barney half thought he had wasted his life; he should’ve become a comedian instead of a chartered accountant.

Giggle giggle giggle. Would they never stop? In the end, they were taken away by an “Assistant” to somewhere else; one could hardly say they went away on their own accord.

But what’s this? Another gaggle of Giggling Gerties escorted into the waiting room. Giggle giggle giggle. Barney wanted to scream. Off they go now, to wherever! Giggle giggle giggle.

It took a while for Barney to realize where he was; he had died and was in the waiting room before entering an eternal dimension. The Giggling Gerties were being taken off to Heaven. As the assistant who seemed to be overseeing the whole affair said to Barney: “Things are a bit overcrowded at present, so we’re keeping you here in the waiting room until we manage to finish expanding the boundaries of Hell.”

1555. She couldn’t wait

(The closing sentence for this story was suggested by Cath of Cath’s World.

Winnie hated school. All day was spent sitting in a hot classroom listening to boring teachers drone on and on. She couldn’t wait to leave school for her life to finally start.

Winnie hated university. A student’s life was meant to be fun, but all she ever got was assignment after assignment. And boring lectures. She couldn’t wait to graduate for her life to finally start.

Winnie hated her job working as a receptionist for an airline company. People were so rude and demanding and full of themselves. She couldn’t wait to meet Mr Right for her life to finally start.

Winnie had a couple of kids before her husband, whom she now hated, asked for a divorce. She couldn’t wait for the divorce to come through for her life to finally start.

Winnie’s kids were expensive and tiresome. Soon, surely, they would leave home and start to be independent. She couldn’t wait for them to fly the nest for her life to finally start.

Winnie was now getting on in years. She worked as a receptionist for a hardware company. She couldn’t wait to retire for her life to finally start.

643. Bridget waits

© Bruce Goodman 15 July 2015

Every day Bridget hoped for rain even though she wasn’t a gardener or a farmer or something. She was simply a receptionist at a factory down town. Each morning she caught the bus to work. There was no shelter at the bus stop, just a sign that said “Bus Stop” on the side of the road.

At the bus stop each day was this guy – she didn’t know his name – but he was what Bridget would call “fairly hunky” and he was the only other one – usually – at the bus stop and once he said “Hi” but normally he would just nod and smile and then they’d wait a few yards apart and not say anything like they were too nervous to speak or something. And anyway, they caught different buses.

And the time he did say “Hi” Bridget was too excited to say anything and just answered “Yes”, which was a silly thing to say if someone says “Hi”.

And day after day he was there throughout the summer months, and now it was heading towards autumn and it was dark when she went down to the bus stop.

Sometimes there were two or three other people at the bus stop but they weren’t regular like Bridget and the fairly hunky guy. And it still hadn’t rained, and every day Bridget hoped for rain even though she wasn’t a gardener or a farmer or something.

She hoped for rain because the fairly hunky guy always carried an umbrella. And if the truth be known, the fairly hunky guy always carried an umbrella because he hoped for rain.