I Could Wait Forever I sink into the cold seat and watch the clock, mocking me with its ticking. Nurses clad in cerulean wander back and forth chatting happily as if they have all the time in the world. I don't have that time, I grumble to myself, glaring at them with frosty eyes. A woman leans over the counter, peering hungrily at the cowering mouse of a receptionist. At the same time I glance to my side and spy a man staring with eyes like a wolf, rabid snarls reveal his fangs. Does he think I'll leave this place before him? A part of me hopes so. A child runs around the waiting room, laughing and screaming, and the mother just sits and sighs; looking up towards heaven, her expression cries, 'when will this end?' I imagine the doctors all sat in their rooms, snickering together at the perpetual misery they're causing us. It makes me tremble with rage. The room smells clean, too clean, sterile as though nothing happy could ever touch this place and leave its mark. I never liked the smell of disinfectant. One day the wait will be over. For all the use appointments are this might as well become a walk-in clinic and save us our expectations. I look at my watch for the fourth time. 23 minutes late. Legs tap anxiously as people stare at the blank screen, their hands bound in silent prayer. Then that unseen voice, like God himself, calls out their name and they jump up in excitement as if they've just won the lottery. Grabbing their bags they hurry down the clinical corridor towards freedom. Someday that will be me, I tell myself. Someday that will be me. #scenariochallenge