Waiting

The ticking clock is the only thing that interrupts the silence. An atmosphere so tense that a knife could cut it.

Waiting for a key in the door. Waiting to see a facial expression. Waiting to know if it’s safe to speak – or not.

A childhood paused. Almost a childhood lost. Wise beyond her years they say. How could it be any other way?

The same thing every day.

One thought on “Waiting

Add yours

Leave a reply to Lucy Robus Cancel reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑