99-word fiction: Waiting for Friday
Waiting. I hate waiting; for anything.
On Monday I have to wait for Friday. Five long days, so slow you can hear them crawl by. Then, finally, it’s Friday. I’ve waited all week for Friday and now it’s here I get to the end of the day and I just feel tired; of waiting.
Waiting. I ignore the people around me. I ignore my vibrating phone in my pocket, like me it has to wait. I stand and stare.
Waiting. The darkness becomes lighter. Movement, a liquid dance, the light becomes white.
Waiting: for the perfect pint of Guinness.
Replace
My Words, My World 