This is one the most boring and irritating things I have to do in life. Waiting. Usually waiting for someone to turn up. I have gotten into the habit of always carrying a book around, just in case. It happens quite often too…

Everything focuses on that one instant. Time slows down. Things around are moving so fast and you are stuck in this place at the mercy of someone or something else. It reflects in your fidgety posture, the downcast eyes. The arrhythmic glances towards the watch and your phone for messages almost seem like a nervous tic.

After a while of scanning the horizon for the person to arrive, you give up. Whichever square of space you are looking at suddenly becomes very interesting. You try to find meaning in the cracks of the pavement, some pattern. This punctuated by surreptitious glances upwards, when will the wait end.

Then they arrive. Life moves on, it is like nothing happened. No one else was in that moment with you, you lost that part of your life by yourself. All you gain from that moment was a temporary intimacy with the pavement.



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