I spend most of my life waiting. Mainly, for myself to get things right.
The silence of waiting bypassed any feeling of comfort life can offer. I sit with not much going on. People walk. Their shadows hover over me. Their voices disturb the storm that’s brewing inside. I can’t grasp reality. My curiosity is dead. My eyes don’t blink.
The sound of the engine begins to tell a story… far from tranquil. Nothing is said but my eyes scream in the silence. They fail me again.
This stillness is misleading.